Shenlock Holmes
by jjhatter
Summary: A rendition of the 2009 film, Sherlock Holmes, starring Shen as the master detective, Crane as his Watson, and many other Kung Fu Panda characters, as our heroic duo try to save China, while facing a dark lord, a mysterious madman, and an enigmatic woman. CxML and ShenxV; co-authored between Shen's General and J.J. Hatter. Read, review, and enjoy, please!
1. Chapter 1

Greetings, readers! It is I, your devoted nutball, J.J. Hatter! Welcome to this collaborative effort with author Shen's General...whom, unlike VanSkittles, could not make it for the fun today. The idea for this story is all his; if you love it, hug him. If you hate it, please be quiet, and leave him (and I) the heck alone; "if you don't have anything nice to say, kindly say nothing at all."

...With that said, PLEASE, SAY SOMETHING!

Ahem...anyway, onto the boring things we go...

Rating: T (because that was basically the rating for the films)

Disclaimer: _Kung Fu Panda_ does not belong to either of us; rights go to Dreamworks and all those who worked on the project. _Sherlock Holmes _(2009 film) belongs to Guy Ritchie, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (not to be confused with Conan O'Brien or Conan the Barbarian...sorry, it was too easy to resist), and anybody else I failed to mention. All OCs in these stories belong to me and Shen's General.

Now, with all that out of the way...

**Prologue: Birds of a Feather**

A dark carriage car rides through the night; the horse that pulls and drives the vehicle pants as his hooves splash through another thin, murky puddle, left by the rain showers earlier that day, making everything quite cold and very wet.

Inside the carriage, two figures sit. The shortest of the two fingers the staff in his hands anxiously, while the other continually loosens and tightens his feathery fingers.

Both glance up at each other.

"There's a reporter behind us."

"I know."

"...The rest of my men are just behind us, too."

"Well, he's ahead."

"Don't I know it...I wish he'd listen to me for once," the shorter one says, gruffly.

The taller figure smiles, but says nothing.

Elsewhere, a lone figure darts through the night, his long tail flashing about behind him. He sprints through the city, the night black as pitch, a contrast to his own silvery-white hue, like a comet moving through the shadows. He snaps around a corner, somersaults over a railing, and jumps down off an aging wall...

Finally, he finds it: the door, set under an old bridge. He glides down on wings of ivory, and approaches it cautiously. He flicks a winged wrist, and a small, feather-shaped knife slides into his grip. He flicks it into the keyhole, twists it quickly, and the door creaks open.

He winces faintly at the sound, and carefully creeps inside; speed was the goal earlier, now it is both that and stealth.

As quickly, yet quietly, as he can, he moves down a flight of stone steps and down a blackened hall...

He notices a fiery, warm light, and spins into a shadowed corner. He leans with his back to the wall, breathing slowly, deeply, listening to the footsteps. Cautiously, he pokes his feathered & beaked face out from behind the cover of the wall...

A crocodile, dressed in a straw, conical hat, holding a lantern, reptilian eyes darting around, moving towards him...

In less than a second, all this information processed, and the head snaps back behind the wall, where he waits, thinking...

_Hmm...head cocked to the left, slightly...a guard with partial deafness._

_ Idiots._

_ First, box ears. Then, jab at the throat; stops the screaming short. Three, the paunch; possibly a drinker. Floating rib to bad liver. Drop, and strike patella._

_ Prognosis: unconscious for at least 90 seconds, martial efficacy in about 25 minutes...full faculty recovery not likely._

With a decisive nod, he ducks deeper into the shadows, as the croc enters...

Once the croc turns, two flashes of white flap out and his ears are ringing. Before the crocodile can properly react, something thick jabs his neck, leaving him unable to speak or cry out, his voice reduced to gasping, gagging sounds. A second later, a kick smashes him in the gut. He stumbles back, then falls with a groan as a final kick smacks him in the knee, an audible CRACK breaking the dark.

As the croc drops, he releases his lantern; his attacker catches it with his beak before it hits the ground, snatches the hat off of the stunned creature's head, and puts it on, scurrying away.

_Thank you, sir._

He runs down a spiral staircase, deep into the catacombs. He eases against the wall as he nears the end, and leaves the lantern behind on the last step.

He finds himself inside a cavernous crypt, and hears soft murmurs and moans from below him. He peers down from behind two pillars cautiously, looking down to the source of the noise.

On the level below him, he spies a crude sort of stone altar, circled by torches. Lying on the altar is a lamb, seemingly moving around in her sleep, whimpering and moaning and whispering pleas and squeals. On either side of this altar, a figure stands: one is a shabby-looking crow, dressed in a black vest and derby that matched his feathers, preening quietly as he watches the girl. On the other side is a figure shrouded in a black cloak, their form unseen beneath their robes, save for their sandled feet, which are rough and thick.

Another figure stands at the head of the altar, also garbed in a black robe, looming over the lamb. Though smaller than the other cloaked figure, this one somehow commands greater attention, his head bowed, arms splayed out, gray paws poking out from under his sleeves, a gray tail quietly whisking about behind him from under his robes.

Scattered about the room are more crocodiles, some gazing intently at the happenings on the altar, others looking about, either disinterested or checking for possible intruders...

A heavy footfall sounds behind him, and he whips about fast. A croc snarls and lunges for him...

Then lets out a short gasp, as a taloned foot pops up from behind him and catches his snout, then binds it fast with a chain. He struggles to break this, and a kick from the first bird and a sharp twist from the one behind him bring him down, leaving him unable to breathe, let alone speak through his bindings, as the first attacker slams a foot down around his neck.

Two pairs of avian eyes – one pair red, the other yellow – connect, the owners of each pair of eyes forgetting the writhing croc momentarily.

"Nice hat," says one, tipping his own with a wing.

"Oh, I just picked it up," the other shrugs, nonchalantly.

"Did you remember your whip?"

"Knives, halberd...ack! Knew I forgot something; I simply thought I'd left the stove on again..."

"Meh. That, too."

The red-eyed bird raised an eyebrow at the now unconscious crocodile.

"You stop putting your weight on his windpipe, now, I think. You ARE a doctor..."

The yellow-eyed one nods, and takes his foot off.

The croc, of course, does not move.

The two birds smile at each other, and shake wings.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Crane."

"I know that, Holmes."

Both turn to look down at the scene below.

"So," Holmes whispers, "Where is the Inspector?"

"Rallying his troops."

"Hmph. We could be here all week, then," muttered Holmes, and returned to the stairs, snatching the lantern back up. "Follow me!"

Crane chuckles, and the two sprint down the spiral staircase. They come up behind two crocodile guards. Holmes flips the hat off his head and into a croc's face, distracting it as he kicks the legs out from under it, knocking its thick skull against the even thicker stone floor.

The second guard lunges for Crane, raising a spiked bat over his head. Crane dodges, and spins about, his wings generating a whirlwind that sends the croc flying backwards into a pillar.

Alerted to the commotion, the figure in sandals runs off into the shadows, while the crow lets out a panicked caw and flies into the rafters. The figure at the altar, however, doesn't even move, simply continuing his incantation.

The other crocs, meanwhile, all snarl and growl and dash towards the two birds. Holmes lets his halberd slide out of his sleeve, spinning it about rapidly. One croc jumps about in front of him, trying to find and opening...and cries out in pain as the lantern in Holme's other wing slams into his face, sparks flying as he falls back onto the ground. Another comes up, but is distracted as a fan-like tail flares out in front of him...and gets a halberd's handle in the eye. He stumbles, trips on the first croc, and smacks his head hard on the ground.

Crane blocks as two staffs come at him, and flies into the air, diving down onto one crocodile before flipping around and kicking another away. Just then, a razor-edged throwing disc enters his vision, and he ducks. The disc ricochets off the wall behind him, and slams into the shoulder of a croc that was creeping up behind Holmes, who flings a knife in the direction of the oncoming croc, the blade and a second disc connecting in mid-air and falling helplessly to the ground.

Crane swoops at the disc-wielding croc, and launches two rapid, spinning kicks and a peck in the snout. The guard falls easily.

As the last croc falls, Holmes and Crane turn their attention to the altar. The lamb, still seemingly asleep, picks up a long, sharp dagger that has been lying beside her, and holds it over her own heart...

Holmes throws out a knife of his own, and his partner lets out a crane-call, snapping his wings...

The knife in the lamb's hand is knocked away, and all but two of the torches in the circle go out, illuminating the lone figure who stands over the lamb.

The lamb herself finally goes quiet and still, and the cloaked figure, for the first time, moves, lowering his arms and bringing his paws together, turning his hooded-head towards those behind him who dare interfere with his work.

"Well, if it isn't Shenlock Holmes," he purrs coolly. "And his loyal pigeon. Tell me, Dr. Crane, as an animal of science and medicine, are you enjoying my exploits?"

Crane sneers.

"Immensely," he snarls, and sprints forward, the figure turning to face him as he moves.

"DOCTOR, STOP!" Holmes calls out, and darts forward, holding Crane back...

Just in the nick of time; as he stops, Crane's confused eyes widen as he notes the point of a long, thin, shard of glass being held between the paws of the cloaked figure before him...the edge only scant inches away from his beak.

Instinctively, he jumps back a bit.

"Do you see it?"

Crane gulps.

"Y-yeah. How did you...?"

"I was looking for it," Holmes says dryly, and smashes the glass "blade" with his halberd. Then, carefully, with the very point of the weapon's blade, he lifts the hood off of the figure...

Revealing a thick-jawed, feline face, with light gray fur and golden spots. A smug smirk was stretched across the leopard's face, two fangs visible in a pronounced underbite, glowing, amber eyes flicking back and forth between the two birds.

"Lord Tai Lung," Dr. Crane utters.

The leopard grinned.

"You seem surprised," he hissed.

Crane said nothing.

"Crane," Holmes mumbled, never taking his gaze, or his blade, away from the cat. "Perhaps the lady needs your attention more than he?"

Crane nods and moves over to the lamb on the altar...but not before smacking the dark lord across the face with a wing.

As he did so, one of the fallen crocodiles – the one who had been whacked with the lantern – reached for a disc his comrade had dropped...

But stopped short as a staff suddenly went beneath his chin.

He looked up, and saw a red panda, dressed in mahogany-toned robes, with a thin, white beard, flanked by a veritable squadron of antelope, each one wielding a spear. It was the panda who held the staff.

"I really wouldn't," the panda said, simply.

And the croc didn't.

"Inspector Shifu!" smiled Holmes "So glad you could join us!"

Shifu frowned, then noticed Tai Lung.

The leopard just stared back, coldly.

"This one's for the rope," said Holmes, referring to the lord, "And the one with the doctor..."

"Is for a hospital," Crane interrupted. "NOW."

"Put her in the carriage car," the Inspector said to two of the antelope, who nodded and ran over to Dr. Crane.

"Zeng?" Shifu added.

A small duck popped up from behind the red panda, and nodded silently, holding up a pair of handcuffs and approaching Lord Tai Lung.

The snow leopard did not resist, actually bending down to let himself be handcuffed.

He did not resist until two more antelope came up and tried to bring him away...

"I'll walk on my own, thank you," he snarled.

The antelope snorted, but complied.

The inspector sniffed.

"Get him out of my sight."

The police pointed their spears at Lord Tai Lung, who flashed a final smile to Holmes and the Inspector, and was thus "escorted" out of the catacombs, a few more antelope following behind, carrying the unconscious lamb.

Shifu turned to Holmes, arms crossed.

"You were supposed to wait for my orders, Shenlock."

"If I had, the girl would be dead, and Tai Lung might have escaped. Besides which, her parents were the ones who came to me for help, not you."

The Inspector huffed.

"Well...either way, looks like China will be sleeping a little more soundly tonight."

"Indeed," smiled Crane, who had lingered behind.

All three turned, as a pig reporter held up his camera.

"Say 'noodles!'"

CLICK. FLASH!

Inspector Shifu smiled.

Dr. Crane smiled.

Shenlock Holmes hid his face behind a wing.

This was the end of yet another case in the career of Shenlock Holmes and his comrades...

**Or was it?**


	2. Chapter 2

Notes: Sorry, fans of Holmes. No Gladstone...couldn't figure out how to fit him in. Now, with that sad fact out of the way...

**Chapter 1: Three Months Later...**

Dr. Crane stared thoughtfully out the window of the flat on 221 Mianbao Street. It was mid-morning, and the city was all hustle and hub-bub, carriage cars and animals rushing past the window, to and fro...

The room Crane stood in was a complete mess, an assortment of stacked boxes and disorganized junk. Normally a tidy person, it made him a bit uncomfortable...

"Tell me something," came a deep voice from beside him, "About your new house...when will you be moving?"

"I should be moving within a matter of weeks," said Crane, turning to face his old friend and former tutor, Captain Ox. "It's by Chang Place."

"I see," Ox said with a smile. "Your landlady told me there would be a woman's touch to it now, yes?"

Crane chuckled.

"Yes. Her name is Mei."

"Well, that's always-"

BANG!

Both instinctively ducked, as if expecting they'd been attacked.

"Good Gods!" cried Ox. "Was...that an _explosion?!"_

Crane hurriedly shook his head, still reeling.

"No, no...um, just a hammer wasn't it? A very...very big hammer..."

Ox's eyes narrowed.

Crane chuckled nervously.

"I...I think my colleague's working on something. Again. I-I'll go and check..." said Crane, heading for the door.

"Er...doctor?"

"Huh?"

"Your...'colleague'...he's not moving with you, is he?"

Crane's eyes hardened.

"No. He. Isn't." he said, and exited the room, climbing up the stairs, nearly running into the old goat at the top, a lady who wore multiple colorful robes and a pair of skeletal spectacles. She looked smaller in those robes right now, fiddling with her walking stick and muttering to herself.

"Ahem! Mrs. Sooth?"

The goat-woman sighed as she saw Crane.

"There you are. I won't go in there alone...not when he's working with gunpowder."

Crane smiled gently.

"Don't worry about it. I'll go in."

Sooth smiled back, shaking her head slightly.

"What am I going to do with that chick once you're gone, doctor? He'll burn the whole building down..."

"He just needs a new case, you know that."

"I suppose, but, still, couldn't you have a longer engagement?"

Crane laughed.

At that moment, the heavy footsteps of Ox echoed on the stairs.

"I knew it!" he bellowed. "I smell smoke! It's not safe-"

_BANG!_

All three flinched, the door doing little to stifle the sound.

"Thank you, Captain Ox," Crane said, rapidly, and practically pushed him back towards Mrs. Sooth. "Same time next week? Mrs. Sooth, please, get him some tea."

"But, that-!"

"Come along, Captain," said the old goat, and lead the stunned Ox downstairs. "I hope it's quieter in the parlor..."

"Mrs. Sooth?"

She turned back to Crane, who nodded towards the door.

"Bring _him_ some, too. It'll cheer him up."

Sooth let out a deep breath, nodded, and vanished downstairs with the captain.

As soon as they were gone, Crane frowned and took a deep breath before knocking on the door. He opened it just enough for him to poke his head into the room.

It was almost pitch black inside. Just beside the door, a shadowy figure was crouched over a small table.

"Permission to enter the armory?"

"Granted."

_**BANG!**_

__Crane's ears rang, and he shut his eyes at the bright, colorful sting of the powder-flash and sparks. He let out a short, growling sound and entered fully, carefully moving in the direction of one of the room's two windows, stepping carefully in the dark, even though he knew it almost as well as the tenant, who knew it like the back of his wing.

Almost. Not quite.

"Crane?" said tenant's voice came from behind him. "I am trying to find a way to muffle the sound of a firecracker-ACH!"

The curtains had been thrown open, a fresh blast of merciless sunlight hitting the red eyes.

Crane smirked.

"Well, it isn't working."

"Not yet," Holmes grumbled, squinting.

Crane rolled his eyes, and moved towards the next window.

"It's been a while since your last case," he said, moving on to the next window...

The peacock shuddered.

"Crane, gently, please-**ACH!** Ooh..."

The second set of curtains had flown open. Crane looked around, frowning, as he surveyed the room: even messier than his own currently was, this flat looked the like the table scraps of a mad scientist's laboratory. Exotic decorations, curious machines, and disused tools were strewn everywhere, scattered on the desks, the chairs, the floor, everything. The smell of gunpowder was fresh in the air, mingled with the odors of chemicals, tobacco, and rust.

"I think it's time you get a new one. A case."

Holmes moaned, rubbing a wing across his eyes as he came out of the corner; he was dressed not in his usual silk robes but a simple one of brown hemp, tattered and old.

"I know," he said raspily. "My mind is restless...I need problems. I need _work."_

"Here's your paper," said Crane, simply, handing it to Holmes, who took it and settled in one of the few empty chairs in the room to read. He flicked it open, eyes scanning the headline: _Tai Lung Hangs Tomorrow!_

"You have some letters," Crane said, holding up a wing full of envelopes.

"Read them, please."

Crane "hmphed" softly and settled into another chair, using the sharp point of his beak to open the first letter.

"Let's see...this one's from a Mrs. Lanyei, Emperor Park. Her husband's disappeared-"

"They'll find him in Shanghai, with an ex-maid on his arm. Is it November already?"

Crane blinked; even after several years of working together, Holmes still managed to surprise him.

"Yeah. It is."

"Hm. Must have slept in," Holmes murmered, eyes never once leaving his paper.

Crane shook his head and moved on to the next letter.

"All right, how about this one? Lady Xion – you remember her, don't you? – says that her emerald bracelet's been stolen-"

"Insurance swindle, I think. Lord Xion likes fast females, and slow carriages...or maybe the other way around. Ah! I see that YOU will be the physician attending Lord Tai Lung's execution!"

Crane nodded.

"Yes; it was our last case together. I plan to see it through to the end."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Holmes' eyes remained fixed on the page, but he was clearly no longer reading it.

Crane cleared his throat, and prepared to read the next letter, just at the moment the door opened up a bit wider...

"This one is from Mr. Qing," said Crane. "He-"

"There is only one case that intrigues me presently," Holmes said in an exaggeratedly ominous voice, eyes narrowed as Mrs. Sooth approached, holding her cane in one hand, and balancing a tea tray in her other hoof. "The curious case of our absentee landlady. I have been observing the old goat's actions, her comings and goings...very sinister, I'd say..."

Sooth rolled her eyes.

"Shenlock, do you want some tea, or not?"

"Is it poisoned, _nanny?"_

The goat smirked, placing the tray down a table beside him.

"There's enough of that in you already," she said, then, without warning, began to gnaw on the edge of the tablecloth.

"DON'T DO THAT!" snapped Holmes, rushing over and pulling the edge out of her mouth. "How often must I tell you?! Everything MUST be in its proper place and state..._nanny."_

Mrs. Sooth chuckled, and left the room. Crane, meanwhile, had placed his wing over his eyes, frustrated.

"Holmes," he began. "As your doctor..."

"I'm not feeling ill..."

"Then as your friend, please, listen: you've been cooped up in here for weeks! I insist, you have to go out!"

Holmes snorted, resting a head on his wing and idly gazing out the window at the people scurrying below him.

"Nothing out there, on Earth, interests me. At all."

Crane groaned in exasperation...

Then, a thought struck him, and he smiled.

"In that case...you're free this evening?"

"Naturally."

"For dinner."

"Sounds wonderful."

"The Noodle Shop?"

"My favorite."

Crane grinned.

"Mei is coming."

"Holmes glared.

"Sorry. Unavailable."

"You are going to meet her, Holmes," Crane said, sternly. "It's inevitable; why not just get it over with?"

"Have you actually proposed yet?"

Crane blinked.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"...No. Actually, I still need to find the right ring..."

Holmes smirked.

"So, it's not official, then?"

"It's happening. Whether you want it to or not."

A pause.

"...Dinner is at 8:30. Please, wear your silk."

"YOU wear the silk," snapped Holmes.

Crane ignored him, and left.

Holmes sat for a while, silent, until he saw Crane leave as he gazed out the window.

Then, and only then, did he let out a sigh, and move to his wardrobe, pulling out a silver silk robe...


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2: Dinner With Mei**

It was evening. Shenlock Holmes sat in his seat at the Noodle Shop, at the table Dr. Crane had reserved earlier that day. He scowled, sitting perfectly still; as much as he loved the restaurant itself, he hated coming alone.

And, at least for the moment, that was what he was.

He took in everything...a fact he sometimes hated. Such as now.

He closed his eyes, destroying the bright, garish paper lanterns and the twilight sights, but he still had to comprehend every single sound: the ticking of the clock on the wall near him; the argument from the table across from him; the squeaking of one waiter's sandles; the vile noises of people eating around him; the chef's commands from the kitchen somewhere behind him. The smell of boiling soup and butter and spices and incense filled his nostrils...

"Holmes?"

He opened his eyes. Every sound, smell, and sight was filtered and limited to the pair in front of him.

One was Crane, dressed in his best, lacking his usual straw hat, curiously enough. The other was someone new: a female mountain cat, with tan fur striped in dark brown, her ears the latter color, with slightly rounded tips, her muzzle, the fur around her eyes, and likely her unseen underbelly white. A mark resembling an overturned horseshoe was set on her forehead. She was dressed in a blue dress, with long black gloves covering her paws.

Crane raised an eyebrow as Holmes stared, dryly at the cat.

"You're early," he observed.

Holmes turned back to him, grinning.

"Fashionably."

Crane smirked, and nodded to the cat who stood beside him.

"Me, this is Shenlock Holmes. Holmes, this is Mei Morstan. My fiancé," Crane introduced, stressing the word "fiancé" and looking pointedly at Holmes as he said it.

Holmes ignored him, standing and bowing to the mountain cat.

"A pleasure," he intoned. "Forgive Crane and I; I have not the _slightest_ idea why it has taken so long for us to be introduced."

Mei bowed back, smiling.

"The pleasure is all mine," she said, and the party sat down.

A waiter – a duck – came waddling up.

"What will you be having?"

"The special," all three said at once.

The duck nodded and waddled away.

"It's really a thrill to meet you, Mr. Holmes," Mei said, her long tail whisking behind her excitedly. "Crane's told me everything about you!"

"I sincerely hope not," Holmes mumbled.

The waiter returned with their orders: three bowls of noodle soup.

"Excellent service."

The duck smiled, and moved on to another table.

"Your cases fascinate me," Mei went on. "I have a pile of detective stories at home."

"It's true," Crane put in with a nod and a smile.

"Well, what do you think of them?" Holmes asked.

"I love them...but they do seem far-fetched at times..."

Holmes raised an eyebrow.

"How so?"

"Well...it's just, how can they make such grand choices and discoveries out of small, insignificant details that-?"

"Oh, that's not true."

Mei stopped.

"Sorry?"

"The 'insignificant' part. The small details are usually the most important," Holmes explained, and gestured towards Crane. "Take him..."

"I intend to," Mei said with a laugh.

Holmes looked at her for a moment, but did not even smile.

"As I was saying, take Crane, for example: let's see what the little detail will show us, shall we?"

So saying, Holmes suddenly reeled back and threw a punch towards Crane's face. It was immediately blocked.

"See? Lightning-fast reflexes. A symbol of discipline and skill. From this, I can infer he is a martial artist. Notice the way he sits: erect, neat. Perhaps our subject is military, or a high-grade master, or both. Now, I check his pockets..."

Holmes reached over and did so. Mei giggled as Crane blushed, hanging his head.

"Aha!" Holmes said, holding his prize aloft. "A stub from a sparring match! Now, I can guess he is a bit of a gambler."

Holmes smirked towards Mei, pocketing the stub himself.

"I'd watch your bank account closely, Ms. Morstan. Crane's cost us the rent more than once."

"Those days are behind me," Crane interrupted.

"Indeed. Right behind you," Shenlock countered with a nod.

"Well, that was fun, Mr. Holmes, but, with all due respect," Mei challengd, "You know Crane very well already. What about a stranger?"

She leaned forward, grinning.

"What can you tell about _me?"_

Holmes gaped.

"...You?"  
Crane shook his head, eyes dark.

"I don't think that's..."

"No, not appropriate, I'd say..."

"Not at dinner, at least."

"Well, perhaps some other time..."

"I insist!"

"You insist?"

"I insist."

"Oh, doctor, she insists..."

"Holmes, I_ told_ you..."

"The lady insists!" Holmes said, ending the argument, and turned toward Mei, both sides staring at each other intently, while Crane watched, nervously. He'd been afraid of this...

"...You are a teacher. A martial arts master."

Mei grinned a little wider.

"Well done."

"You have a student...I'm going to guess it's a male?"

"Yes."

"Is the boy of age?"

"Chow-Peng is only seven, actually."

"Hm. Well, I deduce then he's a bird, perhaps a stork; flicked a bit of ink at you while you weren't looking, straight at your face."

Mei turned towards Crane, smiling mischievously.

"You didn't tell me I had ink on my face."

"There's NOTHING on your face."

"True," Holmes said. "He must have missed; there are two small spots, one on your ear, and one on your neck. Obviously, an impetuous lad. But, you know better than to react rashly to little things like that: hence you were awarded your mastership at the Lee Da Kung Fu Academy."

Mei tilted her head.

"How did you guess the school?"

"Your scent; it smells vaguely like a particular form of incense that only the Lee Da school uses. Also, you are roughly the same age as Crane, and, though he failed to tell me you both learned your crafts at the same academy, I know he's known you for a long time, so I can infer you went to school together, since he also went to Lee Da."

Mei chuckled, and turned to Crane, smiling.

"You really didn't tell him?" she whispered.

"Nope," Crane said, shaking his head.

THEN...

"However...it's something you DON'T have on you that interests me most of all..."

"Holmes!" hissed Crane.

Mei snapped back around, surprised.

"What?"

"You were engaged: the ring is gone, but the band of lighter colored fur and skin on your left paw's ring digit suggests you broke off the engagement, and the distance from the mountains where you were doubtlessly born to Lee Da suggests you may have spent time travelling, perhaps to forget him, and/or find a new prospect."

Mei was no longer smiling.

Holmes turned back to Crane...

"Doctor, by the way-"

SMACK!

The peacock didn't move a muscle, though he was painfully aware of the stinging sensation across his cheek.

Mei stood, trying to keep herself composed.

"Right about everything, Mr. Holmes," she snarled. "Except for two things: I confront what offends me, regardless of whether it's 'rash." Also...neither of us left. He _died."_

She nodded towards Crane, who nodded back, both in a near-apologetic way, and then left.

Crane and Holmes sat silent for a while.

"...Well done, Shenlock," Crane said flatly, and also left.

Now, Holmes was alone at the table.

Alone with all the noise.

He ate quickly, shrugging off the slap to the cheek; he needed to get out of here. He hoped to pay a visit to a place where the sound could be his friend...


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3: "Sparring Match"**

The sounds of the world were like the shrieks of fireworks: sometimes he hated them. Other times – like here and now – they fueled him, gave him assistance, provided his muscles with a tune to dance to as he worked.

The sounds in question: the jeers and cheers of a hundred rollicking animals, the musician with the lute in the far corner, the sound of pouring liquid, the panting of his own breath, mingled with his opponent – a large, silverback gorilla, stripped down to the waist, who, at this moment, was punching one fist into the palm of his other hand.

The smells: sweat, dried blood, Chinese wine, sesame crackers, dust, old wood...

The place: Mianbao's sparring ring, a frequent place of his. He needed this; his stress relief. He was between cases and had just returned from quite possibly the most disastrous (no surprise, honestly) dinner of his life...

He NEEDED this, yes.

He chuckled; Crane would probably either be betting on him or admonishing him for this.

He chose the former as a bell rang.

The gorilla lunged, snarling. Holmes backflipped away, landing atop the edge of the circular wooden fence that formed the walls of the ring. As his opponent charged forward, he somersaulted again, over the gorilla's head, kicking his foe into the fence.

The gorilla caught himself and whirled around, arm lashing out in a backhand swipe. Holmes took the blow to the beak, but used the momentum it gave him to whip out his tail, which flashed about and knocked his opponent to the ground.

He then leapt into the air, train fanned out, swooping down...but the gorilla rolled away and stood again, fists held up. The primate launched a chop to Holmes' neck, but the peacock quickly blocked it.

Just then the gorilla grabbed the blocking wing, and flung Shenlock Holmes across the ring. Holmes caught himself almost in mid-air, rolling onto his feet, panting...

Then, his eyes caught a glimpse of something flapping against the fence near his head.

He gaped.

It was a ribbon.

A dancing ribbon.

His mind processed a single thought: _The viper..._

Holmes stood, eyes on the ribbon, then his gaze darted around the crowd...

Many animals, many screaming...no sign of her...

"COME ON!"

He turned...to receive a stinging blow to the face. He leaned against the fence...

And, beyond his opponent, at the other end of the ring, through a parting in the crowd...he caught a glimpse of lime green scales, a thin, feminine smirk, and two very familiar, reptilian eyes...

His world felt broken down to a singular plane. Relief-time was over.

He gulped, wiping his wing across his beak, and walked past the gorilla.

"All right," he mumbled, panting. "That's it, big guy. You win...w-we're done..."

The gorilla looked stunned; this wasn't the first time the peacock had visited the ring. He'd never met the bird before, but he had been promised a longer, better fight than this...

As Holmes approached the exit gate, boos and hisses and gales of laughter echoes in his ears and brain. He couldn't care less, glaring eyes locked with interest on the green scales that ebbed with the movement of the crowd, like a massive haze...

"Hey! We're not done yet!"

HURK-_splat!_

Shenlock Holmes froze, a wing on the gate. Everything – even the green scales – vanished before his eyes, his entire realm nothing but the feeling of a slimy wetness on the back of his feathered neck. Those in the crowd standing closest to him became uneasy as the pupils of his bright red eyes dilated.

_This mustn't register on an emotional level...just finish the fight..._

_ First, distract the target, and dodge his blind jab. Counter with a strike to the left cheek, and then discombobulate. Dazed, he will perform a wild haymaker. Block it and strike his chest at once. Avoid left swing, and weaken right jaw. While he reels, fracture it, hit the ribs, and, finally, dislocate jaw entirely. Then, to finish it, aim kick to diaphragm..._

_ Conclusion...in summary: ears ringing, jaw broken, three ribs cracked, diaphragm hemorrhaging. Physical recovery? Six weeks. Psychological recovery? About six months. Ability to spit at the back of the neck...neutralized._

Shaking himself to clear his head, Holmes removed his wing from the gate.

He gazed about one last time...but the scales had utterly vanished.

He sighed softly, and returned, heading back to his side of the ring, picking up the ribbon and using it like a wipe to clean the back of his neck...

The bell rang for the second round.

As the gorilla ran forward, he was suddenly blinded by a flash of color as the ribbon lashed out just before his eyes. Momentarily distracted, he growled, and lunged...but hit nothing as Holmes side-stepped and smacked his wing across his left cheek. He turned to face the peacock...and, suddenly, his ears were ringing as the wings snapped around them. He sneered and swung out with his right...it was blocked. He felt a searing pain in his chest, and could have sworn, though his ears were still in pain, that something broke...he tried again with his left, and stumbled forward, hitting nothing. He turned, and a kick snapped in his direction, straight up at his face...

Pain.

_Horrible _ pain.

_EXCRUCIATING _pain.

Another kick.

The pain grew worse.

He tried to scream...even worse yet!

The impact of another kick entered his brain, this one hitting his chest, followed by a peck to his raging face...

He felt his jaw go slack, and the pain hit the maximum...

Then, he felt a sensation of flying, as a last kick sent him backwards, crashing through the fence...and the gorilla knew no more.

The audience was totally silent. The only sounds were their breathing; even the musician had stopped playing in the corner. Some looked at Holmes, who stood serenely in the center of the ring, while others gazed upon the defeated gorilla lying unconscious on the ground, surrounded by bits of broken wood, and still others eyed their ticket stubs.

Holmes snorted, and briskly exited the ring, picking up the ribbon, his winnings, and a single sago tart – on the house – before leaving the building.

Behind him, a single voice shouted, "Where did THAT come from?!"

**Elsewhere, halfway across the city...**

A red panda and two antelope officers ran down the cell block of the prison. The prisoners around them howled and screeched.

One crocodile slammed himself against the bars of the cell.

"Stop it!" he wailed. "Stop it, please!"

One of the guards pushed him back.

At the end of the block, just before a certain cell, an officer lay on the ground, clutching his throat, gasping for air. A duck was crouched beside him.

"Zeng! What's going on?"

"It's Lord Tai Lung, sir!" said Zeng. "He's got this one under a...a spell, or something!"

"Get him out of here, now!" snapped the Inspector to his men. "Zeng, go with them."

The antelope and the duck nodded, and dragged the suffocating officer away.

Instantly, all the noise ended.

The Inspector frowned, and turned to the cell in front of him.

A pair of amber, feline eyes met his steely gaze.

"What's all this about, Tai Lung?"

A soft chuckle pierced the silence.

"There's somebody I want to see, Inspector Shifu..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4: The Beginning is the End...**

Dr. Crane knocked before entering Shenlock Holmes' flat. He sighed as he ruffled his damp feathers; it was a cool, drizzly day.

The perfect weather for an execution.

"All right," he groused, as he opened the door. "Let's go. You-"

He stopped.

Holmes was sitting at the far end of a table. Before him was a beaker, covered by a piece of sandpaper. Inside the beaker, nine flies were buzzing and zipping about, banging their "fists" against the glass and letting out muffled shrieks and buzzing pleas, frantically trying to escape. Holmes was staring at them with a sort of rapt, almost maddened, concentrated glare, and was holding a lute in his arms.

"...Holmes...what are you DOING?"

"Hello, Crane," Holmes said, without looking at him. "Come and take a look."

Crane approached. Noting an empty cup beside an equally glass vial, he picked the vial up, reading the label.

"See this!" Holme's urged. "I was just doing this for fun earlier, but now I might be on the verge of something...monumental..."

"Holmes...you've been drinking the medicine I use in _eye surgery..."_

"Yes. Delicious, actually. Anyway...you'll note these flies? See how right now they just fly at random? Watch what happens – this is remarkable – when I play the following scale..."

Holmes strummed the lute, and, suddenly, the flies quieted, seemingly hypnotized. Crane peered in at them through the glass...

"See!" Holmes exclaimed. "They're flying in synchronized circles, counter-clockwise, like a flock! It's magnificent, Crane: I, Shenlock Holmes, using musical theory, have brought order out of chaos."

Crane blinked, tilting his head.

"Um...Holmes?"

"Hm?"

"How did you lure them in?"

Holmes stopped strumming, and smirked.

"Elementary, my dear Crane: one by one. It took me six hours."

"Oh. Well, what happens if I do this?"

Crane uncovered the beaker, and all the flies zoomed out of the glass, vanishing into various corners of the room. One of the insects landed on Holmes' beak and kicked him between the eyes, then went to join its comrades.

Holmes blinked.

"Oh...right."

Crane rolled his eyes, his sour expression returning.

"Come on," he said. "There's a carriage car outside. It's waiting."

"Waiting?" the peacock questioned. "What for? Where are we going?"

"The prison. Today's the execution, and _you_ are Lord Tai Lung's last request."

Holmes stared, and quickly followed Crane outside.

The ride in the carriage started quietly...too quietly. Crane was turned deliberately away from Holmes, a scowl on his beak, watching the rain around them. Holmes fidgeted slightly; starting up discussion was never exactly a strong point of his...

"Look over there," he said, pointing up at a nearby construction site. "Those towers...it's for the new bridge. Such an industrious world we live in, don't you agree?"

No response.

"...I have your winnings from the ring last night; you weren't there, so I took the liberty of making your usual bet. Do want to take them right now?"

No response.

"...Yes, I suppose you are right. I'll hold onto them for you. Speaking of money, the theater is featuring _Between Brothers_ from The Two Owls Company. I could get you a ticket, when I buy my own...if you are interested."

No response.

"...You have the grand gift of silence, Crane. It makes you quite invaluable as a partner-"

WHACK!

"Ow!"

"I knew she was engaged already," Crane snapped. "She told me. People in love _tell_ each other things, you know!"

"Oh...that's what's wrong."

"Yes," Crane snarled.

Holmes turned away.

"So...that's 'no' to the theater, then?"

Crane sighed and turned away again.

Finally, they reached the prison. The carriage pulled up in front of the large, iron building. Throngs of people were gathered; some acted like a furious mob, hoping to get to Tai Lung before the executioner. Others were panicked, cringing and afraid; one enterprising warthog wore a sign that read, "The End Is Near."

"Well, well!" Crane murmured. "Tai Lung's certainly gotten the crowd riled up..."

Holmes shrugged.

"I'm pretty sure they'll settle after he stops breathing. Care to come along?"

Crane looked at Holmes frankly, and slowly shook his head.

"I've no reason to see him while he's alive."

"Suit yourself," Holmes said with another shrug, and almost jumped out of the carriage. He had scarcely touched the ground when Crane ordered the driver to leave again.

Holmes pretended not to notice.

He noticed Zeng standing beside the gate, and followed the duck in.

"Mind telling me what happened?"

"One of our men came to check on the cell block, sir. I heard a scream, and came running; he was lying on the ground, acting like he was choking. After we got him down into the infirmary, he suddenly seemed to get better. It was like he'd been..."

"...Cursed? Jinxed? Hexed?"

"Yes...yes, that's it."

Holmes rolled his eyes and looked around as they marched down the hall of the cell block; the dank, cold cells were all emptied, the doors wide open. Not even a single, scrounging rat was present.

"Overcrowded much?"

"We just finished moving the prisoners, Mr. Holmes; we might have had a riot on our hands otherwise. He seems to have an...effect on the other inmates, as if he can get inside their heads..."

Holmes raised an eyebrow as Zeng stopped short.

"You know, Zeng...I'm pretty sure I can find my own way from here..."

"Much obliged, sir," whispered the duck, and left.

Holmes continued down the hall till he came to the last cell on the block; a bleak, dismal little room with a barred door and windows, shrouded in shadow within, no thanks to the overcast sky outside.

In the dim light, Holmes made out the silhouette of the snow leopard, sitting cross legged in one corner, arms in his lap, turned away from the door and humming softly...meditating.

He peered into the cell a little farther, noting the assortment of claw marks and curious, arcane images and symbols scratched into the stone walls.

"I love what you've done with the place."

The humming abruptly stopped.

"Greetings, Shenlock Holmes," purred a rumbling voice. "So, you accepted my invitation. I'm glad you could make it."

"Indeed. Now that I am here, though, I feel a sense of concern..."

"Oh, really? And why is that?"

"Your case was quite fascinating. As I followed your murders, I noted a certain...artistry to your craft. I must confess, it was impressive; it was like watching a master painter stroke his brush upon a delicate tapestry."

"Very eloquent. Thank you..."

"HOWEVER, in comparison, your attempt back in the crypt where I caught was more akin to finger painting."

A chuckle in the dark.

"You think there might be something else on my mind yet, eh, detective?"

"Well...either that, or I simply thought it would be nice to keep you company for a moment, seeing as soon my friend will pronounce you dead."

"Your mistake, detective, is to think that anything on Earth led to this moment. I'm not the one holding the brush...I AM the brush."

"I see," Holmes said, dismissively. "Well, it really doesn't matter; my only regret is that I didn't catch you sooner. Four or five lives might have been spared."

"Hmph. Those lives were a necessity; a sacrifice. Five meaningless beings called to serve a higher purpose..."

"You know," Holmes mused, "I wonder if they would allow me to dissect your brain after your execution?"

Tai Lung said nothing.

Holmes pulled out his old pipe; when the ring was not within reach, smoke would help just as well.

"I imagine there's some kind of defect in there," he explained off-handedly. "I'd like to study it...who knows? Maybe then you, too, could serve a higher purpose..."

Holmes nearly dropped his pipe as, with a snarl and a sneer, Tai Lung suddenly ran to the door, pressing his face between the bars, whispering in the peacock's ear.

_"Holmes,"_ he hissed. _"You must widen your gaze. I'm concerned you don't fully understand the gravity of coming events, to say nothing of past ones. You and I, detective, are bound together on a journey that shall twist the very fabric of the universe...but, beneath your logic, I sense a curious fragility. That bothers me. Steel your mind, detective...we'll both need it."_

Holmes turned toward him, an eyebrow arched.

"...You _have_ fallen down far in the House of Lords, haven't you?"

_"I will rise again."_

"Fascinating," Holmes muttered, and began to walk away. "Goodbye-"

_**"PAY ATTENTION!"**_

__Holmes stopped, and tilted his head, indicating he was listening.

_"Listen carefully, detective: Three. More. Will. Die. You will be powerless to save them. Accept this, or else, by the time you realize YOU made all this possible...it will be the last sane thought in your head."_

There was a pause.

"Ciao, detective."

Holmes did not reply, he lit his pipe, and walked away, thoughtfully.

Zeng and Inspector Shifu were standing, waiting, at the end of the cell block.

"The execution is one hour," said the Inspector.

"What did he say?" Zeng asked.

Holmes shook his head slowly.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "But I don't think you'll need a priest for this one."

As Holmes turned a corner and disappeared, Tai Lung smirked.

**One hour later...**

A crowd had gathered indoors, out of the rain, at a large gallows. Crane stood in the crowd of both police and bystanders, glaring up at the snow leopard above him, as the herald spoke.

"Lord Tai Lung," said the herald. "You have been sentenced to death for the practice of black magic, the misuse of kung fu, the unholy murder of five young females, and the attempted murder of a sixth. Any last words?"

The big cat looked in Dr. Crane's direction.

"Death," he said, "Is only the beginning."

He had scarcely finished the sentence when the blindfold went over his eyes, the noose around his neck...

He didn't struggle, scream, or make a single sound as the audience saw him drop.

When the crowd dispersed – some muttering prayers to the Gods – Dr. Crane approached the feline's body. He checked his wrist, then his neck...

He sighed.

"Well," he declared, "It's the end of Lord Tai Lung."

This was the headline of the paper the next day...

But it would not last long.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5: The Viper's Visit**

The scent of fresh almonds, and the CRACK! that sounded as their shells were broken, awakened Shenlock Holmes. (He had fallen asleep on the floor in the middle of crafting a handmade firework.)

The smell mingled with a curious, chemical odor...perfume.

A _specific_ perfume.

His red eyes snapped open; he didn't feel the least bit tired.

"China's so gloomy this time of year," came the voice of the viper from somewhere behind him. "Not that I'm complaining; there's no place like home."

A soft, gentle scraping of scales...and she slithered into view. Her skin was green as green could be, striped with light brown, and with a pale underbelly. As she turned to face Holmes, her clear, blue, reptilian eyes sparkled before him. She wore a lotus blossom clip on either side of her head, a snake's equivalent to earrings, each one fastened with a ruby. Her lips, painted in a thin line of red, smirked her familiar smirk as she looked at him.

"The almonds are from Syria," she said. "I also left some dates from Jordan downstairs, and over there..." She pointed with her tail, "Is a jar of olives from the Cyclades; your favorite kind."

Holmes blinked, speechless.

The viper chuckled, and turned away, slithering over to another part of the room...

As she turned her back to him, Holmes hurriedly got to his feet. The peacock slyly moved the portrait of his mother to check on his safe...

It hadn't been tampered with.

"While I was waiting, sleepyhead, I found this," said the viper, holding up a folder with her tail, but not facing Holmes. "A file? With _my_ name on it?"

"One has to keep up with old...acquaintances," Holmes said, and quietly checked the almonds on the table, and the jar of olives on his desk...

No APPARENT poison...

"I see," the viper said simply, and put the folder down, flipping through the pages of news articles it contained. "Hmm...a stolen painting from the King of Spain...lost naval documents lead to the resignation of the Hungarian prime minister...ooh, and a scandal in..."

She stopped short, turning just as Holmes flipped over a small portrait on his desk. He leaned against the desk, eyes turned up innocently, and popped an olive into his mouth.

"...Bohemia"

"Hm?" Holmes murmered, as he had just now heard her. "Oh, that? I was just studying your many travels...you know, just in case anyone asked me to hunt you down."

"Ah," the Viper said, her smirk returning. "Well, I don't see my name on any of these stories..."

"You're too smart for that. Your...er, 'signature,' however, was very plain. By the way...the rubies on those lotus clips, are they the ones the Maharajah reported missing to his police? Or just some more souvenirs?"

The viper paused, then closed the folder.

"Let's not dwell on the past," she hissed, and glanced around the flat. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say you are between cases?"

"Yes, and you are between me and peace..."

"What?"

"Nothing. I heard you got married?"

The viper snorted.

"Ugh...he was BORING. All jealousy and ignorance...I am Irene Viper again."

A pause.

The viper sighed.

"I need your help..."

"Really?"

"There is someone I want you to find," the viper said, and reached down under the chair...

Holmes' talon shot out and pinned her tail to the ground.

The viper's smirk widened.

"Why are you always so suspicious of me?"

"Do you want me to answer chronologically, or alphabetically?"

The viper rolled her eyes, snapping free of the talons, and held out a rectangle of paper.

"Don't get a papercut on this _lethal_ envelope."

Holmes glared, taking the envelope.

"All the information you'll need is inside."

"...Who are you working for this time?"

The viper blinked, her smile never wavering.

Holmes sighed.

"So...I'll have to find out the hard way, eh?"

The viper nodded, and, almost out of nowhere, pulled out a small purse of coins and placed it on the desk.

Holmes scoffed.

"Keep it; I never said I'd take the case."

"Consider it a hunch that you will," the viper said, and shrugged (how she did that without shoulders, I will never know). "Do you remember the Grand Inn? They gave me our old room."

Holmes did not respond.

The viper wordlessly slithered out of the chair she was on. She moved to the desk and flipped the portrait around...

It was one of her, dancing with her ribbons

She smirked a little wider, and winked at Holmes, who had moved to a shelf and was looking for items for an experiment, it seemed.

"Drop by and visit anytime," she crooned.

Holmes glowered, but said nothing, returning his attention to his tools.

The viper chuckled, and slithered out of the room. As she descended the stairs, and approached the exit to the building, Dr. Crane walked in. He stepped aside and held the door open.

"Good day," he smiled.

"Thank you, Crane," said the viper, and slithered away.

Crane nodded, shut the door behind her...and froze in place when he realized who had just allowed to leave.

The viper, meanwhile, slithered down the street, whispering polite "excuse me's" and "pardons" to the passers-by; it was a crowded morning.

She turned a corner, and, out of a nearby alley, a warthog popped up, holding a bouquet of roses.

"Some flowers, ma'am?"

"Oh!" the viper exclaimed. "Must be my lucky day..."

Behind her, another warthog crept up, holding a knife...

Suddenly, the knife fell from his paws as the viper's tail smacked across his face. He let out a squeal and hit the ground, face first, as a dancing ribbon wrapped around his legs and tugged, tripping him over. Before the first warthog could react, that same ribbon was wrapped snugly around his throat.

_"Don't. Move,"_ she hissed, and then stuck her snout into the thug's coat pocket.

"What have we here...ooh!" she murmered as she found the wallet. "Even nicer than the flowers..."

The pig gagged as she snapped the ribbon away, causing him to spin as he fell.

"Thank you," smirked the viper, hiding the wallet in the flowers, and carried the bouquet in her coils as she continued on her way.

She passed a small fair ground, then turned another corner, where, at the end of the street, a black carriage car was waiting.

She boarded the carriage, and turned to her companion as they drove forward.

"He'll do it," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"Very."

"Excellent...well done, Ms. Viper. This is precisely why I hired you."

Her companion giggled madly.

"Well...that, and it IS nice of you to bring me flowers..."

"I bet he'll have our animal within the week, if not sooner."

"I hope so. I sincerely hope so," growled her companion. "That rabbit is the key to what Tai Lung was working on. He's essential to my plan-"

The figure stopped short as, with a THUNK, the driver and the carriage car collided with something.

"Why don't ya watch where yer goin'?!" the "something" yelled.

"Get outta here!" the driver snapped back. "And watch where _you're_ going!"

The something was a large, black bird, hunched over, with a thick, heavy beak like a grackle, with a patch over one eye, a battered hat on his head, dressed in a worn robe and a tattered scarf. It staggered and stumbled drunkenly as it moved.

"Hello," the black bird croaked. "Sorry, I just-"

CLICK. SCHINK!

The bird stopped short as the figure beside the viper pulled a long, thin sword out of his cane and leveled it between his eyes.

The black bird gulped.

"Goodbye," it said, and backed away.

The driver pulled forward almost immediately.

"Nice birdy," cooed the viper's companion, and put away his blade as they drove on, letting out another giggle.

The viper shivered.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6: Double-Dose of Mystery**

Dr. Crane grinned, shaking his head in amusement.

"Look at you...you're like a raven crossed with a turkey."

"Shut up, doctor," snapped Holmes, who was in the process of washing the last of the grime off his face.

"Why is it the only female you've every truly cared for a first-class crook? And a snake, too?"

Holmes sighed, shaking his feathers dry.

"Let me explain..."

"No, I already know: she's the only criminal who's ever outsmarted you," Crane smirked. "Made a nice, proper idiot of you, too, I might add..."

Holmes rolled his eyes.

"All right, Crane, you've had your fun..."

"What's she after this time?"

"Well, that's of no consequence to YOU anymore, is it?"

A pause.

Holmes cleared his throat, glancing about.

"Now, where did I put that envelope...?"

"Here," Crane said, holding it up. "I read it while you were gone."

Holmes glared at him, and snatched it away, pulling out the paperwork inside, among it a small picture of a rabbit with whiskers like a moustache, large eyes, and ginger-red fur.

"His name's Wo Hop," Crane said. "Missing animal. Case solved, I'd say: clearly you aren't her type; she likes ginger bunnies."

"...Rabbit."

Crane blinked.

"Oh, so you agree?"

"No, I don't. It's just that 'bunny' is a technicality, and usually not one preferred by lapins. The proper term is rabbit."

"...You know, it's times like this I'm not sure if I've upset you or not."

"I'm simply stating that-"

"What were you doing, walking in here, black as pitch, anyway?"

**"Will you allow me to explain?!"**

Crane raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," he said at length. "I wish you would!"

Holmes took a deep breath and sat down in the empty chair beside Crane; the same one the viper had occupied not to long ago.

"It started when she was leaving..."

_"Drop by and visit anytime," she crooned._

_ Holmes glowered, but said nothing, returning his attention to his tools._

_ The viper chuckled, and slithered out of the room._

_ The instant the door shut, Shenlock Holmes ran to the window. He waited till he saw her exit the building, then, he snatched up something from inside his desk drawer, and grabbed an old scarf out of his wardrobe, and ran out of the room, nearly bumping into Crane who had been on his way upstairs as he went the window of the hall._

_ The doctor raised an eyebrow._

_ "Holmes...what are you doing?"_

_ "Oh, nothing," Holmes said, opening the window._

_ "...Er...are you wearing...?"_

_ "A false beak over my own? Yes," said Holmes, and snatched up a heavy brown robe hanging on a rack nearby, slipping it on easily; it was a few sizes too large._

_ "Tell me," Crane started. "At the door, I thought I saw...Holmes! Where are you going?!"_

_ Before Dr. Crane could finish, Holmes glided down out of the window, landing on the coal shed outside..._

_ And crashed through the roof thanks to a number of loose, rotted boards._

_ Holmes coughed and spluttered, scrambling out of the shed, completely covered in ashes and coal dust. He wrapped the scarf about him, and flew over the fence onto the street._

_ He scanned the walkway, and soon spotted the viper, just about to turn the corner. He followed her at a brisk pace, hiding behind the wall as he came to the same corner._

_ He saw the exchange with the warthog, the attempt of the second to mug her...and smiled as the tables turned on them._

_ "THAT'S the Irene Viper I know," he murmered._

_ As the viper went past the fairgrounds, Holmes cautiously crept THROUGH it. On the way, he picked up an eye patch off the ground, and a battered hat off of someone's head. Placing each on him, he swiped a small piece of bread from a baker while their back was turned, and stuffed it in his mouth to muffle his voice. Staggering forward drunkenly, he spotted a flash of green in a black carriage, and stepped immediately right into its path..._

_ "Why don't ya watch where yer goin'?!"_

_ "Get outta here!"_

_ "Hello. Sorry, I just-"_

_ CLICK. SCHINK!_

_ "...Goodbye."_

"...And they drove out of sight. I came back here straight after."

"Hm. Curiouser and curiouser," mumbled Crane, thoughtfully.

"I didn't get a good look at him, but, whoever he is, he's got Viper on edge."

"She's not easy to intimidate."

"No. But she's afraid of him. I can tell."

"Yet she's still working for him, or with him?"

"Apparently."

"Well, it's got nothing to do with me...but may I suggest something?"

"Go ahead."

"Leave. This case. Alone."

Holmes snorted.

"I might not have a choice," he retorted, fiddling with calligraphy pen that had been near him. "After all, pretty soon I'll be paying the rent on my own...thanks to you," he said, pointing the pen at Crane.

Crane frowned.

"Get that out of my face."

"It's not in your face, it's in my hand."

"Get what's in your hand out of my face!"

"Uh...Mr. Holmes?"

Both turned; the door had opened while they were arguing, and now a certain duck stood in the center of the messy flat.

"Ah, Zeng!" Shenlock Holmes exclaimed. "What can we do for you?"

"Correction: what can _he_ do for you," Crane grumbled.

"Sir, Inspector Shifu asks that you come with me at once."

"Is that so? What's he done now?" Holmes sighed theatrically. "Has he set his own trousers on fire again?"

Crane snickered.

"I-it's Lord Tai Lung, sir!"

Both looked up, interestedly.

"What about him?" Crane asked. "Has he come back from the grave or something?"

Zeng gulped.

"A-a-actually, doctor...yes. That's exactly what he's done."

Silence.

"...Most...engaging..."

"How is that possible?" snapped Dr. Crane. "I pronounced him dead myself!"

"I...I know," Zeng nodded.

"What are the facts?" inquired Holmes.

"The groundskeeper of the cemetery claims he saw him smash through his own tomb, rise up, and walk out of the graveyard, right as a whistle."

Crane clenched his beak as Holmes took out his pipe, lighting it as he began to ponder.

"Well, I have an appointment with Mei. I'll leave this to you..."

"It isn't MY reputation at stake, for once."

Crane rolled his eyes.

"Don't even try it," he scoffed.

Holmes smirked, and returned his attention to Zeng.

"Have the newspapers found out?"

"That's what we're trying to avoid, Mr. Holmes."

"Of course. What's the major concern?"

"Panic. Sheer panic," Zeng whispered.

Crane's gaze flicked back and forth from Holmes, to Zeng, and back again.

"Shenlock...you aren't taking this SERIOUSLY, are you?"

"Yes. As should you."

Crane crossed his "arms" stubbornly.

"Give me one good reason to come with you."

"Why, my dear Crane! What female wants to marry a doctor who can't tell if somebody's dead or not?!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7: Open Case**

Shenlock Holmes and Dr. Crane travelled with Zeng to the local cemetery. No sooner had they got off of the carriage car, then Crane casually asked Zeng, "Who won the match?"

Zeng looked up at him, confusedly.

"What match?"

"The sparring match," said Crane, and pointed to a series of footprints and roll treads in the dirt that covered the cemetery grounds. "Those are police-issue soles. Looks like some of your men were having a contest before we got here. Always miss the opportunity to pick up evidence..."

"Perhaps," Holmes put in, "But at least they never miss an opportunity...to miss an opportunity."

Zeng rolled his eyes, quite used to the detective and the doctor by now. He brought them to the tomb of Lord Tai Lung...or what was left of it; bits of pale rock littered the ground around the obliterated entranceway, and some even across the walkway of the grounds. It was as if somebody had blasted it open with gunpowder...but there was no gunpowder to be found.

Inspector Shifu stood silently on top of one large slab of rubble, staring down into the tomb, holding his staff behind his back.

_I will rise again...interesting._

"Having fun, Inspector?"

Shifu turned to them.

"Ah. Holmes, you're here."

"Naturally," Holmes said, and picked up a piece of shattered rock, inspecting it, turning it over and over in his wings. "Hmm...sandstone."

"Half a ton of it," Shifu confirmed. "Somehow, it's been broken through from the inside-out."

Holmes sniffed at the stone and then licked it gently. Then he spat.

"Ahem!" he coughed, dropping the rock. "I see...what of the coffin?"

Shifu stared at Holmes for a moment, then nodded towards the broken tomb.

"Some of my officers are in the process of bringing it up now."

"Ah. And the witness?"

"He's over there," Zeng answered, pointing a feathered finger in the direction of where an old rhinoceros was standing, turned away from the people by the tomb. "He's catitanic...er, craftobotic..."

"Catatonic," Shifu corrected.

Holmes and Crane nodded to each other as the doctor went to check on the rhino. He came up beside the aging mammal and smiled.

"Hi there! Need some help? I'm a doctor."

The rhino glanced at him, but said nothing; his eyes were turned straight forward, staring into space.

Crane waved a wing in front of the rhino's eyes, and peered into them, looking the old one over, then returned to the group.

"The groundskeeper's in shock," he diagnosed. "Nothing too serious, though...he should recover soon."

"He said he saw Tai Lung rise from the grave," Shifu said with a glare.

"...Well?"

"YOU pronounced him dead!"

"He had no pulse!"

"Here they come," Holmes interrupted, as a group of officers came out of the tomb, carrying a heavy black casket, which they placed carefully on the ground. Shifu stuck his staff into the crevice of the lid and pried the coffin open...

Crane and Holmes leaned over his shoulder and looked inside.

"What's this?" murmured Crane.

Instead of a large, dead snow leopard, a small (equally dead) ginger-haired rabbit lay inside, half-covered in potter's soil.

"That's not Tai Lung..."

"Thank you, Inspector Obvious," grumbled Holmes, as he and Crane crouched down to get closer look."

"It's Viper's ginger bunny, isn't it?" whispered Crane.

"Rabbit," Holmes hissed back, brushing away some stray dirt from the rabbit's face, revealing his white, whiskery moustache. "What would you say is the time of death?"

"Well, dipteral to me looks like...about two thirds of an inch, if I have to guess...that's ten or twelve hours."

"I know what I saw..."

All looked up at this new voice; it was the old rhino, who stood over the group now, eyes narrowed darkly.

"I saw Tai Lung," he lowed. "As plain as I see you. And when the dead walk the Earth..."

He pointed at the rabbit in the box.

"...The living will take their place."

Holmes blinked.

"Did you rehearse that?"

The rhino said nothing, turning away once more, eyes vacant again.

Holmes rolled his eyes and stood back up.

"Goodbye, Inspector," he said curtly, bowing, and he and Dr. Crane began to walk away as Shifu ordered Zeng to get the officers to "clean up the mess."

As they exited the cemetery, Holmes flipped a dirty watch out of his sleeve and into his wing, looking at it. Crane raised an eyebrow.

"What's that?"

"I plucked it off of Wo Hop's corpse while the Inspector wasn't looking," shrugged Holmes. "You know how he gets about 'leaving a crime scene with evidence.'"

"I see...Holmes?"

"Yes?"

"Do you actually believe if he's resurrected?"

"It's not a question of 'if,' doctor. It's 'how.' Now, come along, Crane! 'The game's afoot!'"

As the crane and the peacock left, a dark, shabby crow watched them from behind a crypt. He smirked, and flew off with a short caw, eager to return to his master...


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8: Superstitious Science**

"You know, Holmes," said Dr. Crane as he and his partner walked through the harbor market, "I've seen things before I really don't understand. I once met an old turtle who predicted his own death precisely, down to how, when, where, and the number of flower petals he'd turn into, a full years before it happened...and just as he said it would."

"Fascinating; I didn't even know that animals could turn into flower petals," Shenlock Holmes replied, still looking at the watch he had gotten from the now-deceased Wo Hop. "Your point?"

"Well, it's just that something..._supernatural_ is possible for this."

"Coming from the bird who still can't figure out how the cat he pronounced dead is walking among us, somewhere..."

"I said it was possible. I never said that I, myself, believe it."

"Ah. Well, whatever the case, I agree."

"You do?"

"Yes. However, it is a huge mistake to theorize before you have facts; you start to twist facts to fit theories, not theories to fit facts, like you should. No, I think that rabbit is the key to all this...aha!

"What?"

"Scratches. Small ones, around the keyhole where the watch was wound..."

"The rabbit either had poor eyesight, or was a drunk, or both; every time he wound the watch, his hands would slip, thus the scratches."

"Very good, Crane! You have developed deductive powers of your own...let's see...some initials..."

"Pawnshop marks, maybe?"

"Yes...they read 'L.C.'"

"'L.C.' Hmm...I think that stands for..."

Both stopped.

Right in front of them was a pawnshop; its sign read "Liu & Chan."

They looked first at the shop, then each other.

"What a coincidence."

"They should be able to give us the ginger rabbit's address..."

"There's one thing you didn't deduce from that watch, though."

"Oh, really? I didn't think I missed anything..."

"The time. I have to get back to Mei, remember?"

"Oh...right. What appointment is it, anyway?"

"Dinner with the in-laws...well, future in-laws..."

Holmes shuddered at the thought.

"Can I predict your future, sir?"

Both turned; an aged goat, face shrouded by a hood on her cloak, sat on the corner before a bowl of tea leaves.

"No, thank-" said Crane.

"You?"

Crane blinked.

"Oh, you'll want to hear what I have to tell you..." the goat said with a laugh.

"Crane here has no time for your lucky-" sniffed Holmes.

"Charms?"

Now Holmes blinked.

"...Yes, that's right."

"Oh? Not even if it has to do with Mei?"

Crane stared. Hesitantly, he bent down and held out one talon like a hand, palm up. The old goat took the talon and gazed upon it, gently running her hooves over it.

"I see...two birds of a feather. They flock together. Brothers, not in blood, but bond..."

"And what of Mei?"

"Mei...mmm, the letter 'm.' For 'marry.' You two shall be married..."

"And?"

"I see...patterned tablecloths...porcelain dolls...ugh, lace doilies...!"

Crane continued to stare.

"Lace...doilies," he repeated.

With a sigh, he snapped his talon away and glared at the peacock beside him.

"Holmes...does your depravity know no bounds?"

"No."

"Oh, and she gets fat!"

"Enough, both of you."

"She has a beard...and she's not like me..."

"Enough!"

"What of the warts?"

"Oh, she's covered in them!"

"ENOUGH!"

Silence.

Shenlock cleared his throat, and spoke to the old goat, who threw back her hood.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sooth. You may go."

The old goat chuckled, standing to her feet.

"I've still got it," she said, and then smiled apologetically at Crane. "Sorry, doctor; couldn't resist."

Crane sighed again.

"It's fine..." he mumbled.

Mrs. Sooth smiled a bit wider, and walked away.

Crane and Holmes faced each other, the latter with his "arms" crossed smugly

"That was nanny's first prediction in years," Holmes said with a smirk. "It's also her most accurate."

"What _are_ you talking about, now?"

"There's a reason you can't find the right ring."

"...Do you have my pocket money?"

"I always carry it for you. Don't change the subject. You hate the thought of a life without thrills! No mystery, no sense of the macabre!"

"Give me my money."

"Admit it!"

"Give me my money!"

_"ADMIT IT!"_

_ "Holmes,"_ hissed Crane, and pointed over Holmes' shoulder. The peacock turned...

On the door of the building next door to the pawnshop was a sign: "Engagement Rings for Every Wallet."

Holmes gulped.

"Oh."

Without another word, he reached into his robe, took out Crane's money, and gave it to him. Crane snatched it away and moved to the building beside the pawnshop, while Holmes went up to the pawnshop door.

Both entered and exited at the same time, Holmes leaving with a scrap of paper, which he read, and Crane holding a small black box, which he put in his pocket.

"Mei's going to love this," he said to himself.

"Well," Holmes coughed. "I have my address, and you have your ring..."

"Yes, and some spare change," said Crane shortly...his eyes drifted to a corner where two pigs were betting on a game of Chinese Checkers.

Holmes smirked.

"Don't give it all away yet," he teased.

"No, no," Crane said with a shake of his head. "I have to see Mei."

"Right. Give her my regards...her family, too," said Holmes, and stalked away, as Dr. Crane began to walk off in the opposite direction...

The address led Holmes to a small, run down house. It was a broken-down wreck of a building, with a black, battered door.

Holmes knocked.

No answer.

He tried again.

No answer.

He tried the doorknob.

Locked.

With a sigh, he crouched down, reaching into his robe...

CRASH!

The door fell in on its hinges as a blast of wind flashed around Holmes. He smiled to himself, standing as the air settled.

"I thought you had an appointment...it can't have been more than a minute or two since we left..."

"You 'dropped' this," Crane said, flatly, holding out Holmes' whip.

"Oh...thanks," Holmes replied, taking it and tucking it into his sleeve. "It's nice to have someone I can rely on, you know..."

"You can rely on me for ten minutes. Now, shall we?"

Holmes nodded, and they entered the building.

It was dark, and dank; most of the windows had been boarded up. The first room was mostly bare; smashed furniture lay about. A potpourri of foul, chemical smells twisted through the air...

Crane took a step...and jumped back as a bear trap snapped shut, nearly removing his foot.

"This place is booby-trapped...!"

"Mind where you walk."

"Oh, thanks for telling me!"

Holmes shushed him, and the two went on more cautiously; mouse traps, bear traps, and coiled ropes lay everywhere. Crane ducked to avoid smacking face-first into a large metal bar that was suspended from the ceiling in the shadows.

"He clearly felt someone was going to get him..."

"Someone DID," Holmes reminded. "And Irene Viper was here earlier today...that, or the rabbit used the same perfume as her..."

He took a deep, sniffing breath as he stood before the next room.

"Ah...putrefaction! Here, Crane...the kitchen..."

Crane followed Holmes inside; the kitchen was an absolute mess. In fact, it barely resembled a kitchen. Mildew and slime and spots of dried blood coated the walls. Pans, jugs, bottles, and pots were filled with pickled organs, and racks with dead insects pinned to them were stuck to the walls. Why, the only thing clean at all was the sink...most likely for good reason. It all stank horribly, and Crane almost unconsciously felt his wing cover his nostrils.

Holmes, meanwhile, seemed fairly unaffected, eyes darting about, sniffing the air.

"Hmm...phosphorous, ammonium sulfate, formaldehyde...and other aromas...

"Gods..."Crane mumbled, and then noticed a large sheet of paper tacked to the wall. Bizarre shapes and drawings and mathematical formulas were scribbled on it. "Looks like he was trying to combine magic and science, or something..."

"How interesting," Holmes murmered, finding a brass plate covered in a strange, burnt-looking powder, and then noted a stack of scorched papers lying on the floor; they had clearly been burned intentionally, but whoever had done so hadn't done a great job...

"More important than what he was making," said the peacock, "Let's try to find out what he wanted to destroy."

Crane took the papers, and found some "clean" ones in a drawer nearby. Holmes took a bottle off one of the shelves.

"This should be able to sap out the iron in the ink," he explained. "If it isn't _too_ burnt..."

Crane nodded, and set to work, placing one of the burnt papers beneath a clean one, and cautiously dropped some of the liquid onto the paper.

Meanwhile, Holmes continued to explore the kitchen. He noted a step stool; the only shelf too high for a rabbit of Wo Hop's size to reach held a single bottle (surprisingly). He inspected the bottle, and noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a small bowl of mashed honeycomb.

_Strange..._

Next, he picked up a curious device: a cylinder with four spikes, and stretched between them, an odd, purple plant...

"Huh...a rhododendron flower..."

Setting the device down, he next saw a large copper kettle, filled with water...and drowned frogs.

Holmes took a scrap of cloth lying nearby, wiped the lip of the kettle, and took a sniff...

_Nothing...I don't even feel light-headed..._

_ Stranger still..._

"Holmes!"

"Hm?"

"Look; I was able to get a signature off this paper...

Crane showed it to Holmes, who raised an eyebrow.

"There's no mistaking that signature: Wo Hop was working for Tai Lung," hissed Crane.

"Of course he was," said Shenlock Holmes, handing the paper back. "The question is: to what end?"

The two now exited the room, moving onto another; a large table with a curious-looking machine on it was in the center of the area, but nothing else.

"Whatever he was working on," Holmes muttered, gazing back into the horrible kitchen, "He must have succeeded."

"How do you know?"

"Otherwise, he'd still be alive."

"Which must be why Viper wanted to find him..."

"Correct," Holmes said, and then closed his eyes. "There's something else, too...it's a smell, I can't tell what..."

"What's it like?"

"It's...sweet...like sugar and fruit...strawberry taffy? No, maybe a fortune cookie...?"

"Candy apple," corrected Dr. Crane, grimly.

"Holmes opened his eyes, and turned.

The back door – which happened to be just across from them – had quietly slid open, and, standing in the doorway were two figures. One was a scrawny crocodile, holding a large jug of what looked like flaxseed wine in one hand and a box of matches in the other. The second was a stout warthog; he was the one with the candy apple.

Holmes glared as the two stared, wide-eyed, at them.

"Fung & Taotie," he hissed. "I thought we sent you to prison years ago."

"We got out," said Taotie – the warthog – simply.

"Let me guess: judging from your...er, 'do-it-yourself arson kit,' you are here to burn the building down, thus extinguishing all evidence...and witnesses."

Fung – the croc – cackled, smiling now.

"Just one moment, Mr. Holmes...Dr. Crane..."

He turned to look behind him and called out, "Hey! Lidong? Get over here!"

...THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Crane stared.

Holmes just looked up, mildly.

Looming over all in the room was a truly tremendous crocodile. The big lizard was twice as tall and twice as large as his companions, his fangs thick and sharp as metal spikes. His jaw was heavy and long, his yellow eyes bloodshot, and his muscles bulging beneath dark green scales.

He bowed, mockingly, to Holmes and Crane, smiling a (literal) crocodile smile.

"Good day, gentlemen," he rumbled in a low, deep, harsh voice.

Holmes clenched his beak, slowly, quietly drawing a knife from his robes.

"Meat?" he asked Crane, gesturing towards Lidong, "Or potatoes?" he continued, indicating Fung & Taotie.

Dr. Crane smirked.

"My ten minutes are up, Shenlock."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9: Battle at the Harbor**

Fung & Taotie lunged towards Dr. Crane, who flew up out of the way. Lidong, meanwhile, moved towards Shenlock Holmes. The titanic croc threw a punch...it was swiftly blocked. He rounded again with the other side...once again, blocked.

Lidong chuckled.

"You're very good at this," he rumbled.

"I've had practice," smiled Holmes.

Crane kicked Taotie away as the warthog ran at him with its tusks...but he failed to avoid a stinging blow from Fung. The crane recoverd quickly, smacking a wing across the thin croc's face. Fung growled and made to throw the wine bottle he held at the doctor, but it was easily ducked.

Lidong prepared another strike...and suddenly felt a burning slash cut across his jaw as Holmes flicked out a blade. He growled as the peacock tried to slash him again...but instead, the burly crocodile slapped the knife away, and grabbed Holmes by the collar. Holmes let out a sharp gasp as Lidong picked him up into the air like a bag of old vegetables, and tossed across the room and into a wall.

Crane ducked two strikes from Fung, and as Taotie ran forward, he flung his hat like a disc, distracting the warthog long enough for Crane to grab his tusks, and roll on the ground, slamming Taotie onto the floor face-first. As Fung lunged forward again, Crane jumped over him, kicking him in the back as he went.

Lidong slowly approached Holmes, who stood unsteadily, leaning against the large table for support. He held up one feathered finger.

"One moment, please," he panted.

Lidong shrugged.

"I'm in no hurry," he said, nonchalantly.

"Good," said Holmes, and grabbed an axe that was lying on the table, swinging like a club. Lidong ducked, and the blade flew off the (very, very old) handle...

Right into Taotie's head; the warthog had been holding Crane in a strangle-hold, but fell almost instantly as the blunt, heavy side of the blade smacked into his skull with a horrible WHACK!

Crane stumbled forward...and the little black box in his pocket fell out, bouncing across the floor...

Where Fung picked it up, dangling in his fingers teasingly.

Crane ran at the croc, who dodged and spun, his long, scaly tail tripping Crane.

Meanwhile, Holmes and Lidong wrestled with the axe handle. With a snarl, the enormous crocodile wrenched the handle away, and snapped it in half with his bare hands, then proceeded to strike Holmes across either side of the face with the two broken halves.

Holmes fell back against the table...

And his eyes connected with Dr. Crane's, who had been pinned down to it by Fung.

"Having fun yet?" teased Crane, as he kicked Fung away. The black box went flying, and Crane caught it in his beak, only to lose it again as Fung's tail connected with his stomach.

Holmes squawked as a heavy pair of clawed mitts grabbed his tail feathers and dragged him back across the table. He reached out to grab something, anything...

The best he could manage was a pair of metal prongs that had been stuck into the machine; they detached easily.

Holmes flashed out his train, throwing Lidong off, and spun, holding the prongs like a sword...

Lidong grabbed Holmes' wing with one claw, and his throat with another.

Fung & Dr. Crane stepped over Taotie, who still lay upon the floor, the box still going back and forth between them; just as the croc bandit would get ahold of it, Crane would peck him, and catch it as it dropped, only to drop it again as the croc would snap its jaws right in front of his face, and probably would have caught him, too, if the bird hadn't had the sense to flinch back.

Holmes gasped for air, straining with his wings to pry the grinning Lidong off, neither noticing as the prongs went lower...lower...

ZZZAP!

"AAARRRGH!" roared Lidong, and flew backwards as the equivalent of a lightning bolt on a stick connected with his chest. He crashed through a door nearby, and fell down a flight of stairs into what Holmes guessed would be the basement.

The three remaining (conscious) people all froze, looking at the smashed door and the prongs.

Then Crane and Fung looked back at each other, let out a fierce battle cry, and lunged after one another once again, still juggling the little black box as they dueled. Fung shoved Crane, knocking him onto the floor, causing the box Crane held to fly into the air. Before the croc could catch it, Crane grabbed his collar with one talon, and turned the tables so that Fung now lay on the floor, catching the box with his other talon. Fung twisted the talon holding him, and pushed Crane against the wall.

Holmes hurriedly stood up, hearing the thundering sounds of Lidong downstairs. He stuck the pronged end of the rod back into the machine, and, on a hunch, spun the crank handle on the side of the strange device, recharging the prongs.

Finally, with a sound somewhere between a growl and a gasp, Lidong emerged, scratched, bruised, and very dusty. His jawline was red from where Holmes had cut him earlier, and a burn was visible on his chest where the prongs had hit him.

He groaned, leaning against the wall, one hand clutching the metal pipes that ran across it for support. He held up one claw.

"One moment, please," he panted.

Holmes smirked, and shrugged.

"I'm in no hurry," he said, nonchalantly, and quickly turned to see how Crane was doing.

...Not so hot, apparently, as the good doctor had a talon over the box, which lay on the floor between them, and Fung held a piece of broken glass to his throat like a knife...

Holmes turned back, as Lidong pulled from his belt a knife as long and thick as the croc's own arm.

Holmes tapped the pipe with the prongs.

"ARRR-AGH!" screamed Lidong, as he flew into the air once more, and slammed into Fung, who dropped the glass shard as he fell, his larger partner on top of him.

Crane blinked, staring at the fallen pair, then turned to Holmes, who was recharging the prongs again.

"Um...Holmes? What is that?"

Holmes pulled the prongs out and spun them, skillfully.

"Not a clue," he answered.

Lidong struggled to his feet, and ran to a nearby window.

"After him!" shouted Holmes, and followed, still holding the prongs. Lidong jumped out of the window, still dazed, and began to run down the street. Holmes flew after him, gliding to the ground, and sprinting in pursuit.

Crane, meanwhile, put the ring in his pocket, picked up his hat, and decided to just use the door.

Holmes glared after his quarry as he chased the massive croc. Lidong barreled through the harbor streets, toppling and shoving and striking out and anyone and anything that crossed his path. Holmes trailed behind, jumping and dodging the obstacles the crocodile left behind. At last they came to the shipbuilding yard; a large sailship was set on a long track, leading into the water, with large wooden supports tied with chains set about it to keep it from going down the track before completion. Holmes was almost directly behind Lidong at this point. He stopped abruptly, and snapped out his whip, catching Lidong's legs and letting the croc fall with an audible THUD onto the ground. People and workers stopped and stared as Holmes twirled the prongs again and stalked towards Lidong, sliding the whip back into his sleeve.

"Who sent you?"

"You know very well," growled Lidong, as he slowly rose to his feet. He took an instinctive step back as Holmes pointed the prongs at him.

"Funny how you'd still be doing a dead animal's work."

"He's returned from the dead; you know that, also."

"Dead or alive, you _will_ tell me where he is."

Lidong smiled a slow, dark smile, and shook his head with a slow, dark shake.

"There are far worse things to fear," he droned, "Than your little toy."

So saying, the giant crocodile snatched the prongs away from Holmes; He hissed in pain as the electric shock burned his meaty hand, but the power of the prongs only lasted so long, and had already gone down significantly during the run; he did not go flying again. With a deep, rolling growl, he bent the prongs and tossed them to the ground, wiping his burning hands on his legs.

Holmes gulped.

Lidong sneered.

"Fly, little bird," he whispered. "Fly."

"...With pleasure."

And Shenlock Holmes flew off as Lidong lunged for him once more. The peacock ran towards the ship, ducking under one of the supports. Lidong snarled, grabbing a large, iron mallet – a hammer that weighed at least fifty pounds – and smashed through the support, nearly taking of Shenlock's head. The workers and pedestrians on the ground all took off in fear, racing out of the yard to summon the police.

Holmes lashed out with his whip again, but Lidong caught it in one hand and turned it over, throwing the peacock down.

Holmes snapped the whip back again, the speed leaving another scratch in Lidong's scales, and jumped back onto his feet. Lidong tramped forward and swung the hammer again, smashing through another support, and then another, and another...

The unfinished ship lurched on its track. Those still on board fell from the craft.

Holmes ducked another swing, which bashed through yet another support. He reached and grabbed a hammer of his own...

A tiny thing for floor nails that couldn't have weighed more than two pounds, at best.

Lidong chuckled. Holmes, desperate and frustrated, flung the hammer. It hit the large crocodile in the gut, but Lidong barely even flinched. The enormous croc laughed hysterically as he brought the hammer around again, shattering another support...

The ship couldn't take anymore, and, slowly but surely, began to slide forward...

As people ran for safety, a loud caw sounded overhead; Dr. Crane finally made it to the shipyard, gliding down to the ground. Seeing Lidong and Holmes ahead, he spun around as he fast as he could, the wind flashing about the crocodile, momentarily blinding him.

With a grunt of exertion, Holmes kicked Lidong twice in the face. With a final roar, the crocodile threw the giant hammer. The peacock barely managed to dodge the horrible missile, and jumped into the air as a barrel rolled towards him...

Only for the croc to throw a piece of broken chain that wrapped around Holmes, causing him to fall out of the sky right into the deep groove of the ship's track.

As the ship continued to slide forward towards Holmes and Lidong, the crocodile finally decided it was time to go, and dove into the water like...well, a crocodile.

Crane sprinted forward, just in time to see the ship slide where Holmes lay...

**"HOLMES!" **he yelled as the ship scraped over...

Then, as the incomplete vessel slid off the track and sank into the harbor sea...a white feathered head poked out of the track groove.

Crane ran over as Holmes sat up, eyes rolling dizzily, a wing to his head. He was stunned and dazed, but very much alive.

"Holmes! Are you all right?"

"Urgh...wh-what happened...?"

"HALT!"

Both turned as a group of officers – none of whom the two knew – came up, pointing their spears at the duo.

As the slowly stood up, wings over their heads, Holmes whispered, "Doctor...what have you done?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10: Detained**

Dr. Crane sat dismally on a small bench inside the large detainment cell, reading the small notebook he held in his wings. He was surrounded by other, unscrupulous inmates, iron bars, and cold gravel. Shenlock Holmes had fallen asleep, and had leaned against Crane as he did.

As the peacock's head lolled off of Crane's shoulder, he awoke, shaking his head fast and glancing around.

"I haven't slept all not," droned Crane. "Not. A. Wink."

Holmes said nothing, merely stretching his wings, as if he hadn't heard him.

Crane snorted

"Why did I _ever_ believe that I would get to have dinner with Mei's family? It's beyond me, especially after getting roped into going after you..."

"I didn't 'rope' you, you came after me yourself..."

"I've been reviewing my notes," Crane went on, speaking fast, almost frenzied, "On our cases over the past year...do you know what I think?"

Holmes shook his head.

"No, what?"

"I am mentally disturbed."

"How so?"

"Well, why else would I constantly get pulled into situations where you deliberately withhold your plans from me? Why else would I constantly get into things like..._this_," he snarled, gesturing around the cell. "Why else?!"

"You've never complained about my methods before..."

"'Complain?!' I am not complaining!"

"Oh, no? What do you call this?"

"How...how is this complaining?! When do I complain about you lighting fireworks at midnight? Or your mess? The fact that you've stolen my clothes for your disguises?"

"Um, we have a barter system-"

"Did I complain when you once set fire to my room?!"

"Our rooms."

"The... the rooms! You set fire to the rooms!"

Crane took a deep breath.

"No, no, no...where I do take issue is your attempts to sabotage my relationship with Mei."

Holmes sighed, and nodded slowly.

"I understand, doctor."

Crane eyed him suspiciously.

"...Really?"

"Yes."

"...I don't think so..."

"You are over tired."

"Well, yes, that's true...I guess..."

"You're on edge, a little sensitive-"

"I am not sensitive!"

"Let me finish. What you need is a rest. My brother has an estate in the hills; beautiful grounds, a waterfall...we could-"

"'We?!' Holmes, if I'm going into the country at anytime, I'm going with Mei!"

"Well, if you wanted to bring her along, I suppose..."

"No! You're not in the picture! Just Mei and I; you are not invited!"

"Not invited?! To my own brother's estate?! Crane, now you aren't making any sense..."

"AND YOU'RE _MAD!"_

"Ahem...Dr. Crane?"

Both turned as a guard opened the cell door, standing there, waiting.

"What is it?" Crane sighed, putting the notebook back in his pocket.

"Your bail has been paid," said the guard. "A Ms. Morstan?"

Crane smiled, and, without even looking at Holmes, began to leave. Holmes uncertainly followed...and the cell door slammed in his face.

"Just Crane," the guard snapped, and left.

Holmes blinked, and nodded to himself.

Hearing a low growl behind him, he turned. A group of dogs all grinned toothily at him.

"What are you looking at?"

"You better hope you get bail by breakfast," snarled the largest dog. "My boys and I are hungry..."

**One hour later...**

Inspector Shifu followed the guard into the cell. The majority of the detainees were all crowded around the middle of the area, where Holmes and the biggest dog sat side-by-side, telling jokes.

"...To which," Holmes was finishing, "The barman says, 'May I push in your stool?'"

A roar of laughter rocked the cell; the big dog laughed loudest of all.

Shifu coughed.

Holmes and the dog looked up.

"Ah, Inspector! Good to see you."

"Come with me, Holmes; you're out of here."

"I see," the peacock said, and stood, bowing to the large dog. "Another time, Big Chung?"

"Always a pleasure, Mr. Holmes," intoned Chung with a chuckle, bowing back.

And Holmes and Shifu left the cell.

"Thank you," Holmes whispered. "I'd almost ran out of jokes...I personally didn't even like some of them..."

Inspector Shifu rolled his eyes.

"You know, in another lifetime, you'd make an excellent criminal."

"Yes, well, maybe in that life you were a brilliant kung fu master."

Shifu raised an eyebrow.

"Or, at the very least, a decent police officer," Holmes added.

Shifu snorted.

"Please, tell me you have answers."

"All in good time, Inspector, all in good time."

"We don't have time! The news got wind of the case after your little...incident at the shipyards! I've got a city in panic to deal with! What, do you think this is a game?"

Holmes smirked, but said nothing.

Shifu sighed.

"Here," he said, handing the peacock a handkerchief, "Clean up, and come with me."

Holmes stared at the spot where a carriage car was parked.

"What's this?"

"Friends in high places," Shifu said cryptically. "They helped me pay your bail."

Holmes nodded, looked at the handkerchief for a moment, and blew his nose in it...then held it out for Shifu to take back.

The Inspector grimaced, and walked away.

Holmes shrugged, tossing the handkerchief away, and boarded the carriage car.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," said a voice as he got in, "But I'm going to have to put this on you..."

And, before Holmes could react, he felt something slide over his head...

And everything went black.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11: Friends in High Places...**

Shenlock Holmes blinked painfully as the bag came off. He sat in a chair (he'd been led to it still blindfolded) with pink, plush cushions at a tea table in a large, decorative hall, with a ceiling and chandelier of gold, gems and tapestries and relics of all kinds surrounding him, and the faint whiff of a unique incense filtering into his nostrils.

Across from him sat an aged, spectacled red fox, with black ears and eyespots, dressed in blue, regal-looking robes, about the size of Inspector Shifu.

"Greetings, Shenlock Holmes," said the fox with a nod. "I'm sorry for summoning you this way. I'm sure it is a mystery to you, where you are and who I am..."

"Actually, as to 'where,' I was admittedly lost for a while, but I was saved by the Minami Hill Bakery; they are the only ones in the city to use a special sort of sage, imported from Europe, in their bread. After that, the carriage car forked left, then right, hit the tell-tale bump at Cheri Road...I'd say we're a mile or two northwest of Dragon Square. As to 'who,' the letters on the table between us are addressed to Lord Junjie, whose official title is Chief Justice. Who you _really_ are, however, is another matter: the sacred ox on your ring and the turquoise pyramid on the mantle behind you mark you as the head of the society known as the Order of the Jade Palace, whose headquarters we now sit in. Finally, as to 'mystery,' the only real mystery is why you even bothered to blindfold me in the first place!"

Lord Junjie gulped, and cleared his throat.

"Ahem...yes, well...standard procedure, I suppose..."

From behind him, Holmes heard the sound of a door opening. He turned, and saw two figures emerge; the smallest was a chocolate-colored spider monkey with a black face and large eyes, dressed nobly. Beside him, infinitely larger and equally noble in dress, was a heavy, rough-looking rhino with a gold horn in place of his real one, set askew.

"I think we have the right bird," chuckled the monkey in a heavy Chinese accent.

"Ah. Mr. Holmes, allow me to introduce my left and right hands, as we in the order call them," said Junjie. "First, United States Ambassador Monkey..."

Holmes raised an eyebrow.

"A U.S. Ambassador who's Chinese?"

"It makes my job easier," shrugged Ambassador Monkey.

"And this," Junjie continued, gesturing towards the rhinoceros, "Is Home Secretary Lord Vachir."

Vachir smiled.

"I'm guessing you already have an idea about the...practices of our order?" rumbled Vachir.

Holmes shrugged, turning away, glancing about casually and beginning to pace.

"I do," he said. "They are...fascinating..."

"Be as skeptical as you like," intoned Junjie, "But our secrets and systems have steered the fate of the world for centuries...sometimes, sadly, for bad rather than good purposes."

"Black magic," elaborated Vachir. "The Dark Arts."

"We know you probably don't believe in magic, Mr. Holmes," said Monkey. "We're not going to ask you to share our faiths. Just our fears."

Holmes nodded thoughtfully.

"Fear is the infection that binds all," he mused. "Fear of the dark, of heights, of clowns..."

His eyes locked with Lord Junjie's.

"In this case, fear of your own child.

All three order members' eyes widened.

Junjie recovered the fastest.

"H-how did you know that-?"

"Tai Lung is your son? Your eyes. You both have a curious, golden-amber color, its very rare. My only wonder is how a fox has a son who is a leopard..."

Junjie stopped him fast, holding up a paw, eyes narrowed.

"Very few people – even amongst our society – know that information, Mr. Holmes. I want to keep that way."

Holmes nodded, understanding.

Junjie sighed, and looked at Vachir and Monkey. Both nodded solemnly. The fox took a deep breath, and began...

"He was conceived during one of our...rituals. The mother was not my wife, as you might have guessed...even we, with all our powers and faith, couldn't comprehend his birth. The feline woman was a strong believer, with potent abilities...but not even she could survive his conception. I raised him alone, but, when he came of age, I denied him the ability to become of a member of the order. Death followed him everywhere after that...those five girls you knew of were not the first, nor likely the last, now that he's returned. Nobody could prove anything, of course...but I knew. We all knew. That boy is and always has been a curse. And his power grows with each passing day. His resurrection is proof of that."

"But what we think he's planning next," Vachir put in, "Is far more dangerous...both for himself, and all of China."

"And what would that be, pray tell?"

Lord Jungie pulled a leather-clad book from his robe.

"The Book of Spells," he said. "The source of our power, and his. His previous murders, at least in our eyes, seem to have a connection to one page in particular..."

He opened the book, and showed it to Holmes. The peacock could not understand the writing, but the illustration caught his eye: two skeletal sphinx, seated back to back, with a bony demon with the head of an ox, surrounded by fire and stars, standing between them.

"And this is...?"

"A summoning. We believe he plans to call upon the ancient forces. With them, he could alter the course of history itself. We want you to find him, and stop him, before he has a chance."

Holmes bit back a laugh, and smirked at the three.

"We'll give you any help we can," Monkey persisted.

"Indeed," nodded Vachir. "As Home Secretary, I have great influence over the police."

"So," Junjie finished. "Just name your price."

Holmes smiled wider.

"Well, gentlemen," he said, "The good thing about my job is that I get to choose who I help. Rest assured, I will stop him..."

He slammed the book shut.

"...But not for you, and certainly not for a price. You've wasted your time; I'm already on the case as it is, and surely you know, Lord Vachir, that I have helped the police more often than they've helped me. Sorry for the inconvenience."

And the peacock turned on his heel and began to leave...

He paused just before the door, turning over his shoulder.

"One thing before I go, Lord Junjie..."

"What is that?"

"If the rest of Lord Tai Lung's family is dead, how much longer do you expect to live?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12: Over Their Heads...**

The viper opened one blue eye, and smirked, hearing the scratching noises at her door.

_Finally. I was starting to think he'd never come here..._

With a chuckle, the viper took out a bottle of wine, and carried it in her coils as she slithered over to the door, and opened it.

Shenlock Holmes was crouched in the doorway, still holding a knife at lock-level, blinking up at the viper like a mouse caught with a piece of fresh cake.

"...Your lock is impossible."

"That's how I wanted it," she said simply, and handed the peacock the bottle. "Here...perhaps you'll have better luck opening this."

Holmes stood as he took the bottle and followed the viper into the room, shutting the door behind him. The apartment in the inn was mostly white, from the mattress to the curtains, and all the cloth was lined in silver and gold. The bright green snake's scales contrasted it quite boldly, while he felt almost at home...all but the red and black of his eyes and his feathers.

"Ah. Margaux 58, comet vintage," he observed, inspecting the wine bottle. "How fascinating that the heavens can affect the quality of fermented fruit..."

The viper nodded faintly, coiling back up in her bed, smirking as she watched Holmes with half-lidded eyes.

"And how is the case you refused to take from me going?" she crooned.

"Oh, I've hit a dead end. Literally. Your rabbit was buried in Tai Lung's tomb. He's currently under the 'supervision' of the police mortuary...you know, if you still need him."

The viper blinked impassively.

"Oh...dear," she said slowly. "I hope my...employer doesn't ask for a refund..."

"He's a teacher, right? Maybe a professor?"

The viper's eyes widened.

"I didn't see his face," Holmes explained, "But I spotted some chalk dust on his lapel. I've never known a professor who carried a sword, though...let alone one concealed so neatly."

The viper frowned for a moment, but quickly covered it up with a smirk.

"Eye patch...nice touch."

"Thank you, I thought so, too."

"So...case closed," the viper grinned, her forked tongue darting between her ruby lips. "Which makes this a _social_ visit."

"No," Holmes said with a shake of his head. "It's a 'you're-in-over-your-head-Viper visit. Whoever killed Wo Hop was covering their tracks...which means you're likely the next loose end they'll try to cut."

The viper rolled her eyes.

"I'm NEVER in over my head."

Holmes said nothing, but simply opened the wine with his beak, pulling out the cork. The viper raised an eyebrow as he found two empty, clean glasses.

"Let it breathe, Shenlock," she advised.

Now the peacock rolled _his_ eyes, and poured the wine.

"Leave now," he warned as he finished pouring, putting the bottle to one side. "Disappear...you're very good at that."

"And if I don't?"

"Well, if you stay...you could volunteer for protective custody."

The viper smiled wider, and slithered off the bed over to the table, rearing up to look Holmes in the eye.

"If I'm in danger," she said, "So are you."

Holmes' eyes narrowed.

"Meaning...?"

"Come with me."

Holmes snorted again, and picked up his glass.

"Oh, come on!" the viper laughed, leaving her own glass untouched. "What if we trusted each other for a while? We could at least TRY, couldn't we?"

"No," Holmes snapped. "You aren't listening: I'm taking you to a station. Whether it's the railway's or the police's is your choice. So, which is it to be?"

Holmes took a drink.

He set the glass down.

He looked at the viper's smiling face.

And almost immediately after...he felt dizzy...his eyesight began to blur...

"You...decide," he croaked, voice slurred, "Wh-what will it...be...Irene...?"

And he collapsed. He lay on the floor, head limp, panting, feverish...he felt warm, smooth scales creep across his robe and feathers, slowly coiling dangerously around him...

Then two blue eyes entered his hazy vision, less than an inch away from him.

"I _told_ you to let it breathe," hissed the viper, her thin tongue teasing the tip of his beak.

"What...what...? I t-t-taste..."

"The comet? Or the laudanum I slipped into the wine before you got here?"

"Ohh..."

Holmes groaned. The viper giggled and coiled a little tighter, bringing her head around to whisper in his ear.

"Why couldn't you just come with me?"

"No...never..."

The viper smirked, and Holmes felt scaly lips touch his beak...

Then, everything spun even faster...all light dimmed...and he knew no more.

**Elsewhere...**

Lord Junjie sighed as he stepped into his copper bathtub, removing his spectacles and robe and placing them on the counter by the bathroom sink. He turned on the hot water, and lay back quietly.

_Breathe in...breathe out..._

His visit with Shenlock Holmes still weighed heavily on his mind...nasty, unwanted memories tugged at the corners of his old brain...

Memories of his...son.

He scowled.

_No son of mine._

He meant nothing to him.

...So...why did it hurt to think of him?

When his execution had been reported and ordered, he felt relieved, even elated...yet he couldn't find it in himself to be there. The cat was cursed from the start, the old fox knew...so why did it give him pain to think of his death?

Was it the time he spent with him as a kitten, before all the real madness? The recollection of a small, gray cat playing with yarn, eager to learn all he could about the ways of magic, and always excited at Junjie's – his father's – praise and encouragement in martial arts? Was it the idea that, back then, the fox never thought of him as a curse, but more a blessing?

Was it the notion that maybe...just maybe...if he had allowed him a place in the order, none of what was happening would have happened at all?

Junjie sighed again...this time for different reasons...

FWOOSH.

Junjie sat up, turning off the water and looking around for the source of the noise...

He blinked.

The candles were out.

He turned in another direction...

The window was open a tad...

He shrugged.

_Probably the wind...I must have just left it open._

Satisfied, he lay back again, and turned the water back on

_Breathe in...breathe out..._

_ Breathe in...breathe out..._

_ ...Breathe out...?_

_ Breathe out!_

_ Can't...breathe...!_

Lord Junjie gasped and choked and sputtered, his eyes rolling around...the water, bubbling...burning...he feebly reached for the spigot, to turn off the water...

Something grabbed his arm, stopping him.

He wanted to scream, but he couldn't!

The water was rising fast...up to his chin...past his mouth...up to his nose...

The last thing he saw was a pair of ghostly, amber eyes.

Lord Tai Lung calmly removed the ring from Junjie's cold, dead paw, and sat back in a nearby chair, just letting the water run on. He took a small chain from his pocket, and used it to fasten the ring of the sacred ox around his neck, knowing it wouldn't fit his finger.

He looked back over at the tub; Junjie's ears were all that weren't submerged, and the water was beginning to spill onto the floor.

He smiled wider, and peacefully went back to the window, and jumped down.

Boss Crow was waiting outside. His master nodded to him.

"I'm done here," he said coldly.

The crow smiled.

"I'll deliver the message," he cawed, and flapped away.

Lord Tai Lung chuckled to himself as he turned and vanished into the shadows, still admiring the ring.

He had no regrets.

Absolutely no regrets.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13: Next Inspection**

"...And I woke up with an aching head...stark naked."

Zeng tried not to laugh.

"Thank the Heavens for pillows," he said.

"Indeed..." muttered Shenlock Holmes with a shudder.

"So, after you and Ms. Viper's...er...'business' was concluded, what happened?"

"I sat in that bed for a while, obviously, wings and talons cuffed to the bed. I soon discovered that the key to the cuffs was tied to the pillow covering me...and, not long afterwards, the maid who called you came to clean the room, and found me. You can imagine her reaction."

Zeng nodded, recalling how flustered the maid in question had been.

"I said to her," Holmes recalled, "'Madam, don't panic; on the other side of this pillow is the key to my release.'"

Zeng let out a scream of laughter, but quickly covered it up with a cough as Holmes glared at him.

"Go on."

"...Well, of course she misunderstood entirely."

"Of course, sir."

"Yes...and maids were once such a...liberal breed..."

"My wife is a maid, sir."

Silence.

"...Anyway," Zeng went on, "It's likely for the best; if she hadn't called, we may never have found you."

Holmes nodded, but said nothing, continuing to just gaze out of the carriage car awkwardly.

"...Just kidding about the wife, sir."

"Oh," Holmes sighed with relief.

The carriage car finally pulled up to the home of the deceased Lord Junjie. Zeng led Holmes inside and up the stairs to the suite of rooms where the old fox had met his end. A team of about six officers was already there. The body, eyes closed, lay inside the emptied copper bathtub.

"We thought better than to remove the body until after your inspection, sir," said Zeng to Holmes.

"Good boy. What can you tell me?"

Zeng cleared his throat and pulled a notebook from his coat.

"Well, we've checked and searched every room on this suite, and every other possible entrance. There's no sign of forced entry, and none of the servants know a thing; most of them were either asleep or out for the night. The butler informed us of the death, but he didn't hear or see the murder; he was downstairs in the kitchen at the time. Nobody saw anyone come in or out. The body was in the bathtub...eyes wide open...we closed them, and the only thing we found missing was..."

"His ring."

Zeng blinked.

"...Yes, sir..."

"Have the papers found out?"

"We haven't said a word, and we've asked the servants and any other witnesses to be quiet about it, at least for the time being, but even so..."

"Hmph," Holmes snorted, and moved over to the tub. He looked down at Junjie for a moment.

"Pardon me," he whispered, then ran a feather across the rim of the bathtub; the floor beneath him was still damp from where the flooded water had been sopped up. He sniffed the feather, and then turned back to Zeng.

"Why did you empty the tub?"

"Actually, sir," piped up one of the antelope, "I emptied it."

"Well, why?"

"Just common decency, Mr. Holmes..."

"CRIME is common, my friend. LOGIC, it seems, is rare. The decent thing to do, I'd say, is to catch the killer. By emptying the water you might have just let valuable evidence go right down the drain...literally!"

"S-sorry, sir..."

Holmes rolled his eyes, sighing irritably.

"Well, I'll just see what I can find," he grumbled, and took a fingerprint powder sprayer, giving it a spritz.

As he watched the dust settle, something caught his eye.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing to a small urn on the sink counter.

"Bath salt."

"Brilliant! There's probably a bigger container of it somewhere in the house; most likely in a pantry, high up, or in a closet with a vent. Some of you can search for that. Oh, and Zeng?"

"Yes?"

"Please, take some of your men and search outside this suite's windows for footprints other than our own. Anything helps; I cannot make bricks without clay, let alone a full house."

A pause.

"...Why are you still here?"

"Well, we-"

"Go! NOW! _NOWNOWNOWNOWNOW!"_

The police – including Zeng – scattered like flies.

Holmes frowned, and then returned to spraying...

He froze, noticing something out of the corner of his eye.

Focused on the spot, he sprayed again...

Yes! The powder drifted towards one of the walls, and then vanished, as if absorbed by it.

He grinned, and went towards the wall. He leaned his head forward, squinting as he inspected it...

One small piece of lining was differently colored than the rest.

Cautiously, Holmes tapped his beak against it.

CLICK. The wall swung open a tad.

A secret door, as he expected.

Holmes pushed the door all the way open, and entered the room within.

Inside, he found a dark room, lit by two torches, with images of skeletons all over the walls. Across from him, the now familiar image of a skeletal sphinx on a pedestal was seen. Below this, he spied a barren altar of sorts, made of rich wood and covered in gold...

And lying on the altar was a small bowl, beside it a book of rituals.

Holmes approached the altar, and looked into the bowl; inside was a crooked, hardy bone, a long, sharp tooth, a little piece of white stone, and a black and white feather.

Hearing footsteps approaching behind him, Holmes hurriedly stuffed the tooth, bone, rock into his pocket, and placed the feather into the book, before carefully slipping it into a space in his robes. He turned just as Zeng and two more officers returned. The duck looked around at the room Holmes had found, stunned.

"Did you find any footprints?" he asked casually.

"N-no, sir," Zeng whispered, still looking around, eyes wide. "But...we did find marks around the window."

"Specifics, please."

"Well, it...it looked like someone was trying to wipe away their tracks."

"And the salt? Was it in the pantry or the closet?"

"Pantry. And the case was empty."

"What a shame," Holmes murmered, and exited, walking past them.

"I shall return to Mianbao, if you need me again," he called over his shoulder. "Have fun, Zeng!"

The duck gazed at the leering skulls around the room, and gulped.

"Heh...fun, he says..."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 14: A New Order**

Ambassador Monkey grumbled as he walked down the street. It was a cold, bleak, rainy night, and he was none too pleased that his plans for his next trip to America were being interrupted, even if only for one night.

As he crossed Dragon Square, he heard a shuffling sound behind him, and turned cautiously.

Leaned against the wall of a large building, barely visible in the dark night, was a large crow, its dark eyes glinting in the shadows as it watched him with a lurid smile.

Monkey narrowed his eyes, and, after an unsettling, silent moment, continued on his way.

He came to the doorway of an old building, and tried to dodge the rain water coming down from the awning like a waterfall. He did not succeed.

He walked through the main hall of the headquarters, and up a spiral staircase, till he got to the top floor. As he came to a ruby red door ahead of him, with the image of a skeletal sphinx painted on it, he knocked.

The door opened, and the ambassador entered the meeting room; all the members of the Order of the Jade Palace – a cornucopia of raccoons, foxes, apes, goats, and other animals – were already seated, set in a circle around the image of a pentagram in the center of the room. Lord Vachir stood at the head of the room, beside a podium, smiling as Monkey entered.

"You are late," he lowed.

"Sorry," Monkey said curtly, and crossed his arms. "Well? What's the matter? Why the sudden meeting, Vachir...and where's Junjie?"

"Lord Junjie is dead."

The look on monkey's face could only be described as shock.

"...Dead?" he whispered.

"Yes," Vachir said. "The news have not yet got wind of it, but one of my police connections informed me mere hours ago."

Monkey bowed his head, and his face fell...

"However...this means that the time has come to elect a new head," Vachir said, now addressing all of the room. "I'll make the first nomination..."

"Vachir, you don't mean yourself!" Monkey exclaimed.

Vachir's smile grew until it nearly resembled the crow's from earlier.

"No," the rhino rumbled. "I have another lord in mind."

Monkey raised an eyebrow.

"Who?"

Lord Vachir smirked, raised his chin, and crossed his own arms.

"I nominate...Lord Tai Lung."

Monkey stared.

Then he laughed.

Vachir frowned.

"What's so funny?"

Monkey giggled, speaking as he tried to stifle his laughter.

"Tai Lung?!" he gasped out. "Oh, Vachir...that's a good one! You can't be serious!"

Vachir stared deeply into Monkey's eyes.

The spider monkey's smile fell; he instantly stopped laughing.

"You..._are_ serious?"

Lord Vachir nodded. Once.

Monkey was silent for a moment. At first he looked amazed...then angry...

"Are you crazy?!" he snapped. "You know what he's capable of!"

_"Of course he does..."_

Monkey turned to the source of the voice with a look of horror...as, from behind a pillar to Vachir's right, a large, muscular, feline figure emerged, wearing the ring of the sacred ox around his neck.

"That's why we're here, ambassador," purred Lord Tai Lung, moving to the podium.

Monkey glared at him, fists clenched.

"Why are you here, Tai Lung?"

"That is the perfect question, ambassador. I am here to fulfill my destiny. My talents, physical, mental, and magical, were all given to me for a purpose. A fairly simple, but magnificent, purpose: the create a new future. One ruled by the Order. By us."

"By you," sneered Monkey.

Tai Lung shrugged.

"Tomorrow, at noon sharp," he said, a little louder, "We will take the next step in the newest chapter of history. My magic will give us the way, and once the people of China see my power...soon to be _our _power...they will bow down before us."

Monkey spluttered, turning around to look at the other members.

"N-none of you are taking this seriously, are you?!" he yelled.

Several members bowed their heads or averted their eyes, while Lord Vachir just nodded silently.

"They are already allied to me, ambassador," Tai Lung smirked. "Such is the price for being tardy."

Monkey growled.

Tai Lung's smirk widened.

"Overseas," he intoned, "Is a powerful country...but its reign is running dry. War has made its people weak, and their leaders are even more corrupt than our own. We shall take it for ourselves, and, thus, remake the world."

A pause.

"So...United States Ambassador...are you with me?"

Monkey shook his head firmly.

"No, sir. I am not. I am loyal to the emperor, and the president alike. And these powers you are toying with? No one can truly control them."

He sighed, and turned to look at the other members.

"Well...somebody has to stop him," he said loudly. "And since none of you will try..."

He lowered into a crouch, arms held up in a fighting stance.

Tai Lung grinned, baring his fangs.

"I wouldn't," he said, amusedly.

Monkey screeched in response, and leaped into the air, spinning around as he fell back towards Tai Lung, who dropped and rolled out of the way as Monkey crashed into the podium.

Snarling, Monkey jumped and somersaulted towards the snow leopard. He lashed out with a chop...blocked. Another chop...blocked. A spinning kick...dodged.

Tai Lung stepped back, and, with a low growl, grabbed a torch and flung it at monkey, who ducked...

No one could explain what happened next.

Although the torch missed Monkey, the ambassador barely had a second before, with no warning, he caught on fire, engulfed from his head to his tail in flames, screaming in pain and confusion.

"HELP ME!" he howled, stumbling blindly, ablaze...until he went out an open window, fell from the balcony...

And smashed into the wet street below, cremating.

There was silence for a while, then frightened murmurs and whispers began to echo through the Order; even Lord Vachir looked stunned.

Tai Lung stood straighter, absently brushing himself off.

"My friends," he said, licking his paws, "Do not be afraid. Behold! We are protected!"

He snapped his fingers; the door opened again, and a familiar crow entered, holding a goblet of wine, which he handed to one of the seated members.

"Pass the cup along," commanded Lord Tai Lung. "Drink your allegiance to me."

There was an almost collective shiver from the group, and this was done.

After Lord Vachir had taken his share, Tai Lung beckoned him over.

"You control the police," he hissed. "It's time to use that control."

Vachir smirked.

"Yes, my lord."

Tai Lung waved him away, and idly inspected the ring strung about his neck, then glanced out the open window.

_The game's nearly over, detective..._


	16. Chapter 16

Notes: I don't know why people in the universe of _Kung Fu Panda_ eat things like fish and sushi when they are all animals...but they do, and I don't care to ask them why.

**Chapter 15: Body Check**

Dr. Crane was in his room, sorting through some boxes, whistling as he did; despite the disaster the other day, Mei had forgiven him easily, and though the dinner had been postponed to the next day, it had finally gone as planned.

He still had to propose, though...after all the trouble Shenlock was giving him (and, by extension, Mei) he felt it would be best to wait.

He patted the ring in his pocket, and grinned.

As he was looking at some old notebooks, the door opened. He turned, startled...

And frowned.

"Oh," he said flatly. "I didn't know you were here."

Shenlock Holmes nodded, clearing his throat.

"Since this room will not be yours for much longer, do you mind if I borrow your table?"

Crane blinked...and sighed.

"Go ahead," he said, turning away again.

"Thank you," said Holmes, and stepped in.

Two officers came in behind him, carrying something between them.

Crane gaped and gulped when he saw what – or, rather, who – it was.

"Is that...?"

"Taotie? Why, yes, it is."

"...He's dead."

"Very observant, Crane. It seems his skull couldn't take the impact of the dull end of an axe blade."

Crane clenched his beak.

"Yeah...thanks for that..."

Holmes said nothing; he wasn't sure how to accept thanks for an accident.

"...At any rate," he finally said, as the body was placed on the table, "His soul can find consolation in the fact he'll still be able to serve his fellow animals."

He turned to the officers.

"Thank you, men," he said, bowing. "Wait outside, please; I'll tell you when we're ready."

The officers bowed and left the room, then the building, where they waited beside the door.

Holmes set to work at once. He pulled a small box from his robes as Crane continued to sort through the books; the doctor threw curious glances over at him, but turned away fast whenever the peacock looked up and caught his stare.

Out of the box, Holmes first took a magnifying glass. He held up Taotie's arm.

"Hmm...fresh blood on his elbow...older than his other wounds. It's not even swine..."

He then noticed something else, and pulled the shirt up, lowering the arm and looking at the warthog's belly.

"Strange...two small breaks in the skin, like needle pricks...

After mulling this over for a moment, Holmes put down the glass, and cut some of Taotie's short, coarse hair. He lit it with a match and watched it burn.

"Yellow flame with green burst...he must have gone into work at a factory, after he left prison..."

He then picked up a tiny nail scraper, and scraped at Taotie's hooves.

"Coal and silt...similar stains on his trousers, which place him at..."

"Nine Elms."

Holmes looked up; Crane was still turned away.

"He lived at Nine Elms," Crane said.

"Ah. Thank you, again. Do you still have the registrar of lords we used in our last case?"

"I think it's in your room, on the step-stool."

Holmes nodded, and ran out of the room and up the stairs. He returned shortly, reading a large red book.

"Huh. Seems like Tai Lung's been involved in quite a bit...Wu Arsenal, Ling Chemicals..."

"Maybe a factory by the river...?"

"Sorry?" Holmes said, looking up.

He blinked; Crane had taken his magnifying glass while he was gone, and had apparently not seen him come in, as he used it to look over the body. The doctor hurriedly set the glass down and looked away innocently.

"N-nothing!"

Holmes smirked.

Crane paused, and coughed.

"Um...do you know where my belt from Lee Da went?"

"...No idea."

Crane "hmmed," and turned away again.

Holmes rolled his eyes, and looked back into the book.

"Let's see...aha! The Nine Elms Fish Factory, beside the river!"

He snapped the book shut and put it down, then began repacking the box.

"I'll send the police in to fetch that," he said, nodding towards the dead Taotie as he stood to leave. "In the meantime, his...er...contributions should lead us right to Tai Lung!"

"Not us. You."

Holmes stopped in the doorway.

"...Of course. Just a...figure of speech, old friend," whispered Holmes.

And he was gone.

The officers came in soon after. Crane smiled and nodded politely to them...

Then, as they left with the body...he noticed something else on the table.

It was a whip.

He stared at it for a moment, then sighed, smiling despite himself.

_He's left it there on purpose,_ he thought.

...But that didn't stop him.

He grabbed the whip, and ran out of the room.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 16: The Factory and the Wharf**

A mixture of strained grunts and raucous laughter echoed down the river as a boat smoothly skimmed its surface. The laughter came from Shenlock Holmes and the boat driver – a green praying mantis called, fittingly enough, Mantis – who were sharing stories and cracking jokes. The grunts came from Dr. Crane, who had been "persuaded" to do the work of pushing the boat along the river with a pole.

"Faster, doctor!" cackled Mantis.

Crane snorted.

"It's good to see you two hard at work," he grumbled.

Mantis rolled his eyes.

"You caught me on a break," he said. "I'm not expected to work right now, am I?"

Crane glared. His scowl soured farther when Holmes merrily began to ring a bell that was on the small boat.

"I thought we were trying to be discreet..."

"'Discreet,' he says," scoffed Mantis. "You wouldn't last one week in the navy, army-boy!"

"'Army-boy,'" Crane snarled, then appealed to his partner. "Holmes, are you sure there isn't a better way?"

"I assure you, Crane, nobody knows the waterways of this city better than Mantis. Why, he's practically a fish himself!"

"Well, he could at least feed one..."

"Oh, I see you've found a sense of humor, doctor...if only just a sense," smirked Mantis.

Crane sneered.

Mantis chortled, and hopped off of Holmes' shoulder, where he'd been stationed, and onto the pole.

"I'll take over from here," he said, snapping at Crane with his pincers. Once the bird let go, he dropped down onto the deck, and began to work the pole – the insect was remarkably strong.

"It gets a little trickier in the shallows," he explained. "I'll take you up behind the wharf; that's where the factory is. The back entrance at the top of the stairs is rarely locked, but there might be a few guards."

As he finished, the boat came to a halt a short distance from the beach behind the factory.

"Good luck," he said, as Holmes and Crane nodded to him and glided over the water and onto the shore.

The duo ran up the stairs. The first room they came to was unguarded; in the second, they ducked behind some barrels of sushi to avoid the gaze of a single guard. Once the stocky pig had passed, they dove through another door a little further down the hall...

This new room was also filled with barrels...but what interested the pair most was the large, greenhouse-like structure inside.

Both turned to each other, then moved towards the greenhouse, and peered inside.

Crane grimaced at the mildewed, rotted interior, and the insects tacked to the wall.

"Well, this is familiar..."

"All that's missing is a ginger rabbit," agreed Holmes, and then pointed at some footprints – LARGE footprints – that were on the floor. "They moved something out of here not too long ago."

"What?"

"I'm not sure...yet," Holmes muttered, moving into the greenhouse as Crane went into another room. Holmes noticed a dead rat, stiff and cold and fetid, lying on the ground. He absent-mindedly cut off its tail with a knife, and placed the tail in his pocket.

"Holmes!" Crane called to him. "Over here!"

Holmes followed Crane into the cannery, where a large machine was set to first pre-heat the fish, then cut them apart, via a large, spinning blade hanging from the ceiling. The fish were hung on hooks suspended on a track in the air. The odor of dead fish and old blood was heavy in the air.

"Look," Crane said, and pointed at the far wall across from them; painted on it blood – fish blood, thankfully – was "1:18."

"What does that mean?"

"Chapter and verse."

"Huh?"

"It's from the Christian Bible, Crane; the Book of Revelations, Chapter One, Verse Eighteen: 'Once I was dead, but now I live – forever and ever...'"

_"'I hold the keys of death and the netherworld.'"_

The two birds instantly got into a fighting stance, peering around cautiously, as the familiar, dark voice echoed everywhere.

"Lord Tai Lung," Holmes remarked. "Quite a busy afterlife you're having."

_"I warned you, detective. Three have died, as I said. This is all beyond your control, more than your oh-so-rational mind can comprehend. I want you to bear witness: tomorrow, at midday, it will be the end of the world as you know it."_

"Show yourself," snarled Crane, "And it will be the end of yours."

"Save your energy, Crane-"

WHOOMPH! A flash of gray and gold dropped from the ceiling, landing between the two birds.

_"I have a gift for you,"_ hissed Tai Lung.

No sooner had the snow leopard finished his sentence than he zipped off again. Holmes flung knife after knife after knife at the fleeing leopard, even after he had disappeared.

Crane raised an eyebrow as Holmes stood there, still in an offensive stance, panting.

"Um...what was that about 'saving energy'?"

Holmes smiled weakly.

Suddenly, the sound of machinery filled the area, and the lights snapped on. Both turned...and stared.

Chained upside-down to one hook, mouth gagged, writhing as she tried to escape, was the viper.

_"She followed you here, detective! You've led your own snake to the roundup!"_

Flames burst forth, engulfing the fish; the viper was tied up behind three fish, and this was the first.

_"Farewell," _came the voice (softer now), _"Although I know you won't."_

Holmes wasted no time; he flashed out something from his robe, and, as the flames stopped before the next burst, he flew to where the viper was, and pulled the fire-retardant cloak over them both...

Just in time; but the cloak could only block out the fire for so long...

"It's warm in here, doctor!" shouted Holmes.

Crane spun around, eliminating the flames with a blast of wind.

As soon as they were out of the fire, though (literally), that still left the frying pan...or, rather, the spinning blade.

Holmes jumped down, tossing the scorched cloak away, and tugged the gag off of the viper.

"I'LL KILL HIM!" she hissed. "Let me at him; as soon as I'm out of this, I-!"

"Yes, yes, all very well, darling," snapped Holmes, "Now, hold still..."

Ahead of them, the first of the three fish before them was sliced through as if its skin was mere butter. The two halves dropped into buckets on the floor.

The viper shuddered.

Crane and Holmes both tried to smash the chain with some of the peacock's knives; the only result was broken blades.

"It's not working!"

"Holmes..."

"Just hold on!"

The second fish was slashed through; only one left.

The peacock found a bucket of sushi and dumped it into a grate in the floor, where some gears that worked the machine were visible. Several pieces slipped through and got stuck in the device. The gears and wheels groaned as they tried to plough through the sloppy mess.

Holmes jumped back up and onto the hook, hanging with his talons in front of the viper.

"Crane," he ordered, "Turn up the valve on the wall, and come back here."

Crane nodded and ran to the valve Holmes had nodded at; the pipes connected to it helped power the track, and ran across the ceiling over the machine. Crane spun the valve fast, turning the water heat higher and higher; steam whistled.

There was a vile, scraping, smashing, squishing sound, and the gears in the grate spun freely, the track jerking forward.

The third and final fish was cut.

Crane dashed back and hung on a hook behind the peacock and the viper.

"Everyone bounce," Holmes yelled over the screaming machine, "In three...two...one!"

All three bounced on the track; the pipes above were so over-pressured they couldn't take it. They burst, water spilling as the rail broke, dropping all of them down...

The viper fell...her nose inches from the spinning blad.

She gulped, and looked back up at Holmes and Crane.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Come on," said Crane, "We have to try and get Tai Lung."

"I'll catch up," Shenlock Holmes said, and set to work freeing the viper. Crane nodded, and ran out towards the wharf.

Holmes took one of the viper's clips, and unlocked her with its pin.

"In over your head yet, Irene?" he smirked.

The viper smirked back, giving him a peck of a kiss on the cheek before putting her blossom clip back on.

"Not yet," she laughed.

Holmes rolled his eyes.

"Let's go," he grumbled, and the two went after Dr. Crane.

Crane exited the building, running out onto the darkened wharf, the night cool with the sea air. He spotted a small boat leaving on the water...

Inside it was Tai Lung, who smiled and saluted Crane mockingly.

Crane frowned and ran forward, planning to fly after him...

_Snick!_

His foot caught something and he tripped. He turned, still on the ground...

His blood ran cold; it was a long, metal line...and he smelled smoke...

Just then, from around a corner, Shenlock Holmes and the viper popped up. He held out a wing to stop them...

"HOLMES! STOP!"

The peacock did, eyeing him confusedly...

And, an instant later, Crane vanished in a blast of fire, and a terrible **BOOM! **echoed in the peacock's ears.

Before he could really process anything...**BOOM! **Another explosion sprang forth, closer this time.

Holmes ducked as shrapnel flew around him. He turned towards the viper...

**BOOM! **The viper let out a short scream, muffled by the sound of roaring flames as another blast echoed between her and Holmes.

Holmes opened his mouth...he screamed a name, but he wasn't sure of whose. He grabbed a large sheet of metal near him...just as another **BOOM!** echoed all around him, debris scattering across his shield as he ran...he didn't know in which direction. He could barely think at all, pink and orange flame engulfing most of his vision, smoke making a thick haze, shrapnel flying everywhere...

Another _**BOOM!**_, louder than the rest, drummed in his ears...and something heavy and thick thwacked against his skull...

And suddenly, everything was a fuzzy, horrible, noisy darkness.

He wasn't sure of how long he lay there...he wasn't sure if the viper or his friend were all right...he wasn't sure if HE was all right...

Then, his brain began to clear...the strange haze around him lifted...and he felt someone shaking his shoulders, heard a voice...

"Mr. Holmes? Mr. Holmes!" it hissed.

Holmes blinked rapidly...and found a black duck looking at him with a panicked expression.

"Z-Zeng? What...?"

"Sir...Lord Vachir has ordered your arrest!"

Holmes' eyes widened, and he struggled vainly.

"No, no, it's fine...I won't take you in myself."

"How...why...?"

"No time to explain!"

"But...Crane! Viper! They...!"

"Dr. Crane is alive, and we've found no other bodies. Just...go, sir! Please, hurry!"

The duck pushed Holmes away, and the peacock staggered off into the shadows.

"Zeng!"

The officer turned as Inspector Shifu came up, hopping over bits of blackened rubble.

"Any sign of him?"

"N-no, Inspector..."

Shifu eyed him suspiciously, then sighed.

"Well, keep looking. As of now, Shenlock Holmes is Public Enemy #1."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 17: Dead or Alive...?**

The viper was silent as she prepared to board the ferry to Siam, her head dipped down. As she gave her ticket to the boat driver, a flamingo, he tipped hat.

"Hello there," he smiled, then frowned, cocking his head to one side. "Are you all right, ma'am? You look upset..."

"I'm fine, thank you," said the viper. "Will the boat leave on time?"

The flamingo's smile returned, and he shrugged.

"There's been a small delay, ma'am...but nothing major. We'll be heading out shortly."

The viper nodded.

"Thanks again," she said, granting the flamingo a small smile, and slithered on board and into the passengers' quarters.

There, she flicked up a newspaper, and began to read.

She sighed as she read the headline: "Shenlock Holmes: Most Wanted."

"Oh, no..."

"Tut-tut-tut! Ah, the press is so cruel...so prone to excitement. See here! On the next page, there's a story about how the United States Ambassador was, and I quote, 'burned by Hellfire!' Will wonders never cease..."

The viper turned carefully...

Red eyes met blue.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" she inquired, and then added a quick "Sir?"

A mad giggle answered her.

"Silly snakey! I _own_ this ferry! It will leave when I let it...the same way _you _shall leave my employment when I let you."

The viper shivered.

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

"Oh, really? Leaving for Siam after a fireworks show on the wharf? It's almost like...oh, I don't know...you were trying to skip out on our little deal!"

The viper's tongue flickered out, wetting her lips.

"I...I found your rabbit."

"Well, where is he, then?"

"In the local morgue; he was murdered by Tai Lung."

"Tragic."

The viper nodded dimly, and then reared up a little straighter.

"The way I see it," she said, a bit more boldly, "My job is done. I've fulfilled my end of the bargain-"

"Wrong!" barked her employer, baring his fangs. "Your 'job' was to manipulate Holmes' feelings for you, not to succumb to your own for him! You have fulfilled NOTHING!" he roared, banging his cane angrily in emphasis.

The viper winced at the sound, and took a deep breath.

"Very well...what do you want me to do?"

"Finish the job, of course. I want...I NEED what Wo Hop was working on. And you, my dear, are going to get it for me."

"And if I don't?"

The sneer became a knife-toothed grin, and the faint sound of creaking wood was heard as her employer leaned forward, eyes half-hidden by his hat brim.

"If you fail me again," he snarled, "Then the next dead body to plague this city...will be Shenlock Holmes."

**Elsewhere...**

Mei Morstan was pacing outside the room of the hospital as the doctor – a large brown turkey – exited.

"Well?"

"He'll be all right," the doctor sighed, never meeting her eyes. "The medicines I've given him should let him rest easier now; the surgeon will be along soon."

Mei nodded.

The doctor gave a barely perceivable nod back, and turned to leave...

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Ms. Morstan?" the doctor answered, not turning around.

"Are you sure you've done your best?"

"Yes, I believe so...why do you ask?"

"Well, Crane IS a doctor, too, you know..."

The turkey chuckled softly, still not looking at her.

"I'm sure he'd find my treatment sound," he said. "Good day, Ms. Morstan; I must attend to some other patients."

He took three steps...

_"Hold it."_

The turkey stopped mid-step. He turned over his shoulder, a glimpse of two red eyes visible.

"Listen to me, DOCTOR," Mei said, arms crossed, "I know you care for him about as much as I do, albeit differently. This isn't your fault...it was his choice. Crane would probably say it was worth the wounds."

The turkey blinked, and his eyes widened as the cat came up and around, and looked him dead in the eye.

"Solve this," she hissed, "Whatever it takes."

The turkey paused for a moment, unblinking...and then dashed away from her and out of the building.

As he left, another turkey – this one with green eyes – entered the room, looking back over his shoulder curiously.

"Is something wrong?" Mei asked innocently, smiling.

"It's the strangest thing, Ms. Morstan...I think I just passed myself in the hall..."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 18: The Ritual**

Had anyone – friend or foe – walked in on Shenlock Holmes at the moment, they might have found a knife in their throat.

The peacock had taken refuge at the ring; the owner, a personal friend, had allowed him the use of the upstairs area, where there were quarters for the contenders to rest, change, etc. The owner made amends by having that night's contenders change/rest in another area.

Holmes' brain was a mess; his eyes were wide, unblinking, dilated...frightful to behold, with a feral-looking fire in their scarlet depths. Voices rang and tumbled through his head, undiluted by the lute he played to try and drown them out...

_You seem surprised..._

_ Panic..._

_ It's Lord Blackwood...!_

_ I've never been in over my head..._

_ Leave. The Case. Alone..._

_ Let it breathe..._

_ You're not taking this seriously...?_

_ Tomorrow at midday..._

_ HOLMES! STOP...!_

With a thick growl, the peacock, flung the lute halfway across the room, and proceeded to stick it with five knives before it hit the ground.

The voices continued to chatter and wail. Holmes half-considered going down to the ring itself to get rid of them...then recalled that he always saw at least one police officer in the audience whenever he went, and quickly decided against it.

He glanced around, hoping something would catch his eye...

No...nothing but his own, feverish, scrawled writing on the wall across from and behind him.

He sighed, and took out his pipe, closing his eyes...

_You and I, detective, are bound together..._

_ His power grows..._

_ Steel your mind..._

_ The Book of Spells..._

The voices suddenly didn't matter.

His eyes snapped open.

"That's it!"

He reached into his robe...aha! There it was: the ritual book he had taken from the secret altar in Junjie's house. Inside the book was the feather.

He checked his pockets...yes! They were all there! The stone, the tooth, the piece of bone...

He placed the bits on the floor, and then found the ritual he wanted. He doused his pipe and set on the page as a bookmark, and went to work.

First, he went downstairs, to the kitchens – avoiding the ring itself – where he borrowed a case of salt and a frying pan. He then ran back upstairs. He went to the old wood stove that was used as a heater in the winter, and set it to work. He took some old candles he had used as light, but had at last gone out, and dumped them into the pan.

He took some chalk – the chalk he used to write on the walls – and drew a large pentagram in a large circle. He drew a cross running through the circle, with smaller circles at each point. He then poured a bit of salt into these small circles, and placed either the stone, the bone, the tooth, or the feather in each one.

Once the candle bits had melted into liquid wax, he poured the hot wax along the lines of the pentagram.

He found an incense pot, and sprinkled some opium powder he had taken from Mianbao before his being marked as a criminal into it.

Once the wax cooled, he sat down in the center, and made a small cut in the sole of one of his talons, letting a few drops of his blood drip onto the floor in the center before using a scrap of cloth to bandage it...

And then, finally, he lit the powder in the pot...

And the fabric of the universe twisted and broke before him...the room seemed to grow foggy, vague, and distorted; straight lines became crooked and oblong...sounds, smells, and feelings became numb or muted...

And then...the visions began...

First, he felt and saw things spin around him...then he saw Lord Tai Lung's cell, and heard his voice speaking in his ear...a single word: _"Three."_

Then, the prison became a swirl of dull color, and he found himself in Wo Hop's filthy kitchen...saw Wo Hop working on something...some something else grab the rabbit from behind by the throat...

That view flipped like a piece of paper, and he was suddenly surrounded by an infinity of water, seeing nothing but lights, splendor, and a horrible pair of amber eyes...

The lines and lights around him began to shift...the eyes vanished, and, just before the water washed across his face, they formed the image of a sphinx upon a pedestal, and a muffled, drowned, heavily-accented voice hissed, _"Believe in magic..."_

The water came to crescendo on an invisible shore, leaving a filmy blue backdrop to the vision of the viper...but it wasn't REALLY the viper, as he knew her: it resembled her in all but two ways; this creature's eyes were as red as the peacock's, and, unlike his viper, had fangs.

Very, very big fangs.

_"Come with me,"_ she hissed alluringly, then struck like lightning, the dark, sharp-toothed maw engulfing Holmes view...

Then...blackness...a sound like a heart thumping...perhaps his own heart...?

_"Detective..."_

Holmes felt his head move, but was not fully conscious of it; it was as if two different Shenlocks were imprisoned within one form...

His eyes once again beheld an eerie pair of amber, feline eyes...

_"Give up," _snarled Tai Lung. _"Your end is near, detective...this is a riddle you cannot solve..."_

Then, the eyes in the blackness seemed to multiply, until the room was unseen behind the vast, inky ocean of black and glowing amber...the sound of a crow's caw filled Holmes' ears, and began to get louder...and Louder...and LOUDER...

Holmes felt himself cover his ears...felt himself scream, but did not hear its sound...

Then, for the umpteenth time in a very short while, he felt himself slipping...the darkness embraced him like an old friend who'd been gone for weeks...and the amber was thoroughly swallowed up by black...


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 19: The Ritual Explained**

Holmes gasped as his eyes flew open, feeling something touch him, afraid of what it might be...

...He was lying on a cot...

...Why was he in a cot...?

"Well, don't _you_ look nice today..."

Holmes, groggy beyond belief, turned to face the speaker...

His red eyes blinked away the dreamless sleep, widening at the sight of Dr. Crane leaning against the far wall, beside the locked door, a faint smirk on his beaked mouth.

Holmes looked Crane up and down.

"...Are you real?" he asked at last.

Crane nodded.

"...How can I be sure?"

Crane walked over and slapped the peacock across the face with one wing. Holmes yelped from the impact.

"Did that feel real?"

"...Yes..."

"Then there you go!"

A soft, feminine giggle from the other side made Holmes sit up and turn...his eyes widened further yet at the sight of the viper, smirking her own familiar smirk.

"Good morning," she said, coyly, tongue darting between her ruby lips.

"Er...good morning to you, Irene..."

"Uh-huh," the snake murmered, nodding, and slithered into a nearby chair. "It's time to get to work, sleepy."

"You know," Holmes said, getting to his feet, "I thought after the incident at Nine Elms, you would have taken my advice and left..."

The viper rolled her eyes, and nodded to Crane, who held up a newspaper with a headline reading, "Shenlock Holmes: Most Wanted."

Holmes raised one eyebrow.

"That's odd..."

"Making the front page? I thought you'd be used to it by now..."

"No, the fact that I see just a title, no picture."

"You don't do pictures."

"So, what's your point?"

Now Crane rolled his eyes.

"It seems you'll be working on the other side of the law for a time," the viper said. "And that's my specialty."

And so it was that Holmes rolled _his_ eyes.

"I feel safer already," he drawled.

Crane chuckled. Holmes turned his gaze toward him.

"You're making a rapid recovery."

Crane smiled a bit wider, idly rubbing one wing across the other.

"Yeah," he said, softly. "I actually had to take some of the shrapnel out of this myself..."

He looked straight at Holmes, a twinkle in his eye.

"Mei said I had a lousy doctor."

Holmes lowered his head uncomfortably.

"Yes, well...uh...I'm glad that you're still...with us..."

Crane smiled mildly and pointed to the drawing on the floor.

"Mind explaining your little masterpiece to us?"

Holmes clenched his beak, then nodded.

"Very well," he said, then stood a little straighter, cleared his throat, and took a deep breath...

"To begin with," he started, speaking a little louder than before, "My initial approach was...shall we say, too narrow? When I visited Lord Tai Lung in prison, he told me to widen my gaze...and, much to his own detriment, that is exactly what I have done. I discovered that Tai Lung's scheme is, as some members of the Order of the Jade Palace believed, based on a ritual that is key to the Order's faith...however, it is most likely not in the way they think he's using it. At first, I did not understand _how, _myself..."

He then gestured to the images on the ground.

"...So, I decided to try and actually _perform_ the ritual, as closely as I could. My adventures down the rabbit hole took me further than I might have enjoyed, but I have emerged enlightened..."

He stopped, tilting his head abruptly.

"Irene?"

"Yes?"

"Are you cold? I saw you shiver..."

"Oh, it's nothing...please, go on."

Holmes eyed her, unconvinced, but continued...

"Ahem...the Order has a belief that the mythical creature called the sphinx bars the gateway to ultimate power, between our world and the next; only by solving the riddle of the sphinx can you pass. In my case, the riddle was rather different than that of legend. The sphinx, as pictured in the society's sacred texts and grounds, contains four parts: it is a creature that is part eagle, part lion, and part ox, and is always depicted seated upon a marble pedestal; in a hidden room in Lord Junjie's house, I found an altar with a lion's tooth an eagle's feather, an ox's toe bone, and a piece of white marble, all of which you see in the circles with salt."

"Very interesting," yawned the viper. "Now, what does this all have to do with Tai Lung?"

"Crane, do you have your map?"

Crane answered by pulling it out and handing it to Holmes, who took it, set it on a table nearby, and used the chalk to draw on it as he spoke.

"The pentagram on the floor, with the circle around it, and a cross running through both, is featured prominently in the many of the Order's rituals, including the one I tried here. The points of the pentagram's star represent the five lambs Tai Lung slaughtered before we caught him. It is the cross, however, that we are now concerned with...

"Wo Hop, the ginger rabbit, represents the pedestal, Tai Lung's base. We found his body here..."

Holmes put a mark on the map.

"Next, Lord Junjie, who wore the ring of the sacred ox. He died here..."

Another mark.

"And third, Monkey; he was a United States ambassador. The eagle has been a national symbol in America for years. He was killed here..."

Holmes made the third mark, drew lines connecting them.

"So, using this pattern, we can find and hopefully prevent the last death."

"The lion," Crane mumbled, and took the chalk from Holmes, drawing the last line himself, and then connected it all with the circle. The viper leaned over to see the results...

All three stared in horror.

"Oh, Gods," Crane whispered. "He's going to kill the Emperor!"

Just then, they heard a familiar voice downstairs...

"Zeng, you and three others stay here! The rest of you? Follow me..."

"Inspector Shifu!" hissed the viper.

"Ah! Right on schedule!" chirped Holmes. "You two, come this way..."

He led them to a window at the back.

"Ladies first," Holmes said with a bow.

The viper nodded and jumped down, catching onto a lamp on the side of the building and swinging safely to the ground before slithering away.

Holmes handed Dr. Crane a piece of paper; footsteps thundered on the stairs...

"Follow these instructions, no questions asked," ordered Holmes. "It is imperative if we are to stop Tai Lung."

"But, what-?"

"Go now, doctor!" snapped Holmes, and Crane sighed before flying out the window down to the ground.

Holmes hurriedly shut the window behind him, took out his pipe, and went to a chair, where he sat, looking like he was about to smoke.

About a second later, the door burst open, as Inspector Shifu and five officers entered. Holmes mock-saluted them.

"Good day, gentlemen," he greeted, smoothly.

The Inspector smirked.

"Hello, Holmes," he said, and looked around, noting the writing on the walls and the drawings on the floor. "Tell me: did any demons turn up yet?"

Holmes sighed dismally.

"No, I'm afraid not."

The Inspector's smirk widened, as the red panda pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"Don't worry," he said. "We've got the next best thing..."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 20: Smoking Out Vachir**

Lord Vachir turned over his shoulder, looking up from his hand, as he heard a knock at the door.

"Enter."

The door opened, revealing Inspector Shifu and a handcuffed (or, rather, wing-cuffed) Shenlock Holmes. The peacock seemed totally unfazed at his own arrest, glancing about idly.

Vachir smiled.

"I beg your pardon, Lord Vachir," the Inspector said with a bow. "I know it's...unorthodox, but Mr. Holmes here, as you know, has been saying some serious things about you..."

Here, Shifu pulled at his robe, revealing a hidden pin in the shape of a sphinx.

"...And the Order."

Holmes stared...then he laughed.

"So!" he smirked. "The mystery of how you became an inspector has been solved-OOF!"

Holmes was cut short by a harsh strike to the stomach. He gagged, his cuffed wings clutching his torso in pain as he doubled over.

Shifu sighed, and smiled apologetically at Vachir.

"Sorry, Lord Vachir," he said. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

Vachir nodded.

"Thank you, Inspector," he said.

Shifu bowed again, and left, giving one last glance at Holmes before he shut the door.

Now, only two were left. Holmes and Vachir faced each other in silence for a moment.

"Well?" Vachir smirked. "What's on your mind, Mr. Holmes?"

"I'm curious, Vachir...did you help Tai Lung with all the murders, or just the one I stopped?"

Vachir's smirk didn't fade.

"How did you guess?"

"It's very distinctive, that gold horn of yours; I thought I caught a glimpse of it under your hood when you left the crypt."

Vachir rolled his eyes, moving towards the center of the room, where his desk was. Holmes, meanwhile, moved toward the fireplace, pacing back and forth as he went...because his back was turned, the rhino never noticed when the peacock kicked subtly at something beside the fireplace...

"Whatever the case, I must confess: I've been completely outmatched," sighed Holmes. "I could deduce very little from my investigation...but, then again, for me, nothing is more interesting than a case where all the odds are stacked against you."

"I guess it takes a strong animal to admit defeat," intoned Vachir, and reached down – pretending he'd dropped something – into his desk, pulling out a crossbow. He turned away from Holmes as he loaded it...

"I DID figure out the pattern though: pedestal, ox, eagle, and lion...the lion is the Emperor, isn't it? The most famous lions in China are his elite guards."

Vachir chuckled.

"Very clever...but it isn't MURDER, Mr. Holmes. It's _MERCY._ We are giving the weak masses a stronger leader. Don't you see?!" he exclaimed, whipping around, crossbow raised. "It's for their own-"

The rhino's smile faded, changing first to surprise, then anger. Half of the room was filled with smoke...he'd been so detached, he hadn't even noticed...and Holmes was nowhere to be seen.

_"No," _the detective's voice whispered from the clouds. _"I don't see. However, that doesn't really matter; I just wanted to know the location of Tai Lung's 'final ceremony,' and now you've given it to me."_

Vachir scowled, and slyly moved to a nearby window, opening it so the smoke could escape, always keeping his crossbow ready.

"I've told you nothing!" he spat.

_"Not verbally, no...but your clothes and appearance say more than you can imagine: the mud on your sandals, from where you've been walking. The red brick dust on your cloak, hanging on the wall, from where you've been kneeling. The bandage on your hand, from when you were vowing. You and Tai Lung made the final preparations for your plan in the catacombs beneath the Emperor's palace about an hour ago. The Emperor and his council meet today; all members of the Order of the Jade Palace are on that council. It's the perfect time for the perfect crime."_

With a sharp clatter, a pair of cuffs flew out of the now-thinning smoke.

Vachir looked down at the cuffs, then back up, as the smoke began to clear...still no sight of the peacock...

Vachir sneered, squinting in the gray clouds...

_Where is he hiding...?_

"It's too bad you made an enemy of Lord Tai Lung," he growled. "You would have made a good ally. But it doesn't matter what you know. We take power at noon, Mr. Holmes!"

"Well, then," came a voice from behind, "There isn't any time to waste, is there?"

Vachir whirled, firing his crossbow as a white figure sprinted for the window, and dove out, gliding over the water.

Vachir snarled in rage, throwing his crossbow down on the floor...

The peacock, meanwhile, swooped down onto a nearby, familiar boat...

"Hello, Shenlock," smiled Dr. Crane as the peacock sat down, wiping his brow.

"Ha Ha!" laughed Mantis. "What'd I tell you, army-boy?! Out the top window; no way he'd come out over the terrace."

"Yes, but that isn't the top window, is it, _sailor-boy?"_

"Oh? What would you call it?"

"Well...it's the middle window..."

The viper laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," Holmes snapped, "It's time to go. Inspector Shifu played his role perfectly, hiding the key within a firm punch..."

Here Holmes absently rubbed his sore stomach.

"Actually, I think he might have enjoyed it _too much..."_

"Did you get what you needed from Lord Vachir?"

"Yes. I...er...smoked him out easily, as well as literally. Thank goodness for closing chimney vents..."

"So, where to?" asked the viper.

"Mantis!" Holmes shouted. "Take us to the construction site of the new bridge; port side, 100 yards...there we should find a tunnel leading into the catacombs."

"Right!"

"Good, and hurry! We have a mere ten minutes before all of China becomes Tai Lung's playground..."


	22. Chapter 22

Notes: Firstly: this story is nearly finished; only one more chapter and an epilogue to go. Secondly: just to clarify, this isn't placed in any given time. _Kung Fu Panda_ is in time that is neither ancient nor modern-day, and since it's been crossed with the Victorian era...yeah, questions like "did this exist back then?" we've pretty much thrown to the wind. With that said, let's move on to...

**Chapter 21: Doomsday**

Not long after Shenlock Holmes and his comrades set their course, the meeting of the Emperor's council was preparing to open. Outside, a lone billy goat was screaming at the top of his lungs...

"Tai Lung's come back from the dead! The end is nigh! Demons travel with him, and every soul shall wail! We are doomed; nothing can stop him! Nothing and no one!"

As the goat was "escorted" away by a team of lion guards, a cloaked figure, hidden in a dark alley, smiled...

Down below, in the catacombs, a viper, a crane, and an albino peacock all peeked out from behind a column. Before them, they saw a large, strange looking device, with a pipe running up to the ceiling, and two canisters of some kind of liquid welded to it, as well as each other. A prong-like...thing pointed upwards, like an antennae. The machine was guarded by Fung and a few other crocodiles.

"Behold," whispered Holmes, "Lord Tai Lung's magic revealed!"

"What is it?" hissed the viper.

"A chemical weapon, quite possibly the first of its kind; it runs on clockwork and emits poison."

"How'd you figure that out?" Dr. Crane asked softly.

"The dead rat I found in the factory; its tail was discolored a faint blue...and it stank of bitter almonds."

The viper's eyes widened.

"Cyanide!"

"Correct. This machine was what Wo Hop was working on. It could revolutionize warfare..."

"Yes, but at the moment, it's going to be used to kill the Emperor and his council," snapped Crane. "What do we do?"

Without warning, the viper truck, coiling around Fung's neck and dragging him to the ground. The other crocs were immediately alerted, and ran to see what was the matter.

Holmes and Crane looked at each other, shrugged, and leapt into the fray...

Back in the palace, Lord Vachir and a few other members of the Order all shared a glance and a nod. A few of them moved to the back of the hall, and locked the doors, then moved to their seats without saying a word.

A minute or two later, two lion guards entered the hall from the other side (these doors were also locked, secretly), escorting an aged turtle carrying a pronged staff, toothless and smiling. This was Emperor Oogway.

"My friends," the old turtle croaked, "I call this meeting to order..."

Holmes, Crane, and the viper fought like wild animals. (If you are laughing, shame on you.)

Crane zipped about the catacombs, dive-bombing and kicking out, sending crocs flying right and left, spinning like a whirlwind. The viper's dancing ribbons swirled and whipped around, taking crocs by the knees and legs. Volleys of knives and fan-tail flashes sent others down as Holmes jumped and kicked and darted around the area.

At one point, Holmes backed into something. He whipped around, a handful of knives ready to cut and tear...

Only to look into the eyes of Dr. Crane, who also had prepared to attack.

"...Oh...it's you..." they said at once.

"You and Viper take care of the machine," Crane said. "I'll hold off the rest!"

Holmes nodded, and dashed to where the machine was...

Fung, who had recovered, barred his way. Holmes blocked a strike from the head croc, then kicked him back down...

Only for the crocodile to jump up and grab him from behind in a squeezing, crushing grip.

"Irene!" he gasped out. "A little help?!"

The viper responded by slinking over and whipping her ribbons against Fung's eyes. The croc, momentarily blinded by the stinging slap, was felled by two lightning kicks to the face from Holmes.

"Now," Holmes panted. "Let's look at this machine..."

Lord Vachir raised one arm. The Emperor smiled at him.

"Yes, Vachir? What is it?"

The rhino stood, smiling a strange sort of smile.

"Your Highness...my friends...the time has come for only those who believe to remain."

The Emperor raised one eyebrow.

"What do you mean, Vachir?"

The rhino's smile grew wider, and he pointed upwards.

Everybody turned to see what he was pointing at.

And there, standing on an interior balcony, overlooking the meeting hall, was Lord Tai Lung, grinning triumphantly. He stood straight, with both paws behind his back.

"Good day, gentlemen," he purred richly.

"What are you doing here, Tai Lung?" the Emperor inquired, as serene as possible, though his face bore a dark scowl.

"I have returned from the grave to fulfill China's destiny," replied Tai Lung, and wave one hand about, the other still held behind him. "Listen: the rabble outside. Do you hear their fear?"

A pause as all listened.

"I shall use that fear," smirked Tai Lung, "To control them. I shall expand the borders of this empire to the entire world..."

Crane knocked a knife as long as his left wing away from one croc, caught the blade in the air, and slashed at another's leg. Holmes and the viper, meanwhile, inspected the machine.

"Watch this," said the viper, and took one of Holmes own knives, and tapped it against the machine. The blade flew from her grip, and stuck into a nearby wall.

Holmes sighed.

"It's designed so that we can't shut it off. Brilliant."

He pointed at the prong-like structure at the top.

"I think those are made to receive some sort of signal..."

"Radio waves?"

"Maybe. Whatever it is, once triggered, the device will convert the cyanide liquid into a gas, which will be sent through the pipe up into the vents of the palace; within seconds, the most powerful animals in China will be dead."

"But to do that, he'd have to create a way to control it remotely."

"Yes."

"Is that even possible?"

Holmes shrugged. The viper sighed.

"Well, maybe we don't need to shut it off...can't we just remove the canisters?"

"They're welded into place."

"...A controlled explosion?"

"Great idea! I always carry some spare gunpowder around...we can use a bit of that, and my pipe as a container-"

"YAAAH!"

Both looked up as something threw Dr. Crane into the wall.

A huge, heavy shadow, carrying what looked like a spiked club, moved towards them. The viper lashed out one of her ribbons, and, using it like a sling, threw a small, sharp stone at the oncoming figure. The silouhette lurched, head snapping as it reacted...then continued to move forward...revealing an immense, dark, battered-looking crocodile, bearing a slash mark across his face, among other scars; a thin line of blood oozed from the dent the rock had made in his snout.

He grinned a deadly grin, and cracked his knuckles.

"Miss me?" rumbled Lidong.

Holmes sighed and placed a wing over his eyes.

"I _really_ wish you hadn't done that, Irene..."

"I shall create a new empire!" Tai Lung declared. "One that shall endure forevermore!"

"And how, exactly, do you plan to do that?" demanded the Emperor.

Tai Lung chuckled darkly.

"Very simple, Your Highness: when the bell tolls noon, I shall summon the darkest force known to animal-kind. Those with me shall live; those against me shall die."

The Emperor's guards snarled and flung their spears. The leopard dodged them almost too easily, laughing as he did.

"Prepare!" he bellowed. "The time is drawing near!"

Behind his back, one claw slipped carefully downward, hovering over a small switch he held...

Holmes handed the viper his pipe and a packet of black powder as he and Lidong slowly approached each other.

Suddenly, the giant croc staggered back as Crane flew over and placed his hat over Lidong's face, holding on as the titanic reptile jerked around, cursing.

"GET HIM!" shouted Dr. Crane.

Holmes jumped forward and slashed his talons across Lidong's chest. The big croc roared in pain, then lashed out with a backhand, sending Holmes to the ground. He then reached over his own head and pulled Crane down, throwing him to the ground as well.

The viper took the gunpowder, and made a small pile on the weld that held the pipes to the machine. She placed the pipe over the pile...

Lidong swung his mace; Holmes grabbed it by the handle and pushed him back, snatching the club away, Crane kicked the croc in the shin. Lidong responded by kicking Crane down, then lunged, jaws wide open...only to shut them again as they were slammed closed by his own club. The force was enough to topple the giant, and Holmes and Crane immediately pounced on him, Holmes grabbing his legs in his talons, Crane wrapping his own talons around Lidong's neck.

The viper shoved a ribbon into the pipe for a fuse, then slithered to where the knife was stuck in the wall. She threw it at the device; as the blade rebounded off the machine, a spark lit the fuse...

Holmes twisted, and Lidong screamed as he felt something in his legs crack. He tried to grab Crane, but Holmes flung a pair of knives, which stuck in his shoulders, effectively stopping him...

The bell rang the hour.

Tai Lung smiled wider than ever before.

"A new reign," he decreed, "Begins now!"

He flicked the switch...

**BANG!**

The canisters fell from the machine.

The viper smiled, and immediately snatched them up in her mouth, and began to slither away as fast as she could.

Holmes saw her leave. His eyes went wide.

"VIPER!" he yelled, and ran after her.

Behind him, Dr. Crane and Lidong both passed out: one from exhaustion, and one from pain and lack of air.

Above, Lord Tai Lung's smile fell. His face and the faces below him – most of them, anyway – expressed first surprise...then confusion...then realization...and then, finally, vengeance.

Tai Lung growled.

"Curse you, Shenlock Holmes," he muttered, and then slunk away.

The meeting hall was silent for a moment...then the Emperor commanded, "Arrest Lord Vachir!"

The rhino stood and tried to escape...only to be dog-piled by his fellow Order members (incidentally, yes, a few of them were dogs).

One particular member who did _not_ join the pile approached him, smiling smugly down at the defeated rhinoceros.

"I'd say I'm sorry, Lord Vachir," smirked Inspector Shifu. "But I'm not."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 22: Deconstruction**

Out of the sewers, up through the towers, and away to the construction site of the tower bridge went the viper, with Shenlock Holmes in hot pursuit. The slippery snakestress slithered up the spiral staircase of the tower, and raced across the skeletal runway, held by iron supports and tangled chains...

She skidded to a stop, dropping the canisters, but quickly catching them again in her coils, staring down...hundreds of feet over the wide river; the bridge runway was still incomplete, with a large gap running between the two unfinished halves.

She looked around, trying to figure out a way across, or out of the situation, or...

"Irene!"

The viper turned as Holmes appeared from the tower. He glanced around curiously.

"You took a wrong turn, love," he said after a moment.

The viper paused, and slowly shook her head.

"We're safe..."

"Interesting assessment," Holmes remarked, raising an eyebrow as he approached...

The viper's tongue flickered, confused, as the peacock moved past her, standing almost at the edge of the gap.

"Run along," he said airily, waving a wing around. "I'm done...I won't be chasing you anymore."

The viper blinked, and slowly started to slither away...

...About halfway to the tower, she stopped, and turned.

"...I don't really want to."

The peacock didn't move or respond at all.

She sighed.

"I'll tell you everything I can..."

"I rather wish you would," Holmes said, turning...

Then, suddenly, a gray-and-gold flash barreled out from the tower, and yanked the canisters out of the viper's coils.

The viper hissed, and struck out with a ribbon. Lord Tai Lung caught it, and jerked, flopping the snake onto her back. She rolled back onto her "feet," then jumped up and smacked him across the face with her tail. With a sneer, the snow leopard lashed out and grabbed her by the throat with a heavy paw, holding her over the side of the runway, gasping for breath.

He paused, and turned toward Holmes.

The peacock's mouth was wide open, as were his eyes. He shook his head desperately...

Tai Lung grinned...and let go.

The viper screamed as she dropped...

"NO!"

Holmes shot out a knife. The leopard ducked, and lunged forward, swinging out with a punch. Holmes blocked it, along with the chop that followed, and dodged a fast roundhouse kick before retaliating with his own, the talons scraping across Tai Lung's muzzle. With a roar, the big cat backhanded the detective, who used the momentum of the attack to slash out in a wide arc...and missed.

Tai Lung brought both fists up, still clutching the canisters, in a hammering motion, but Holmes skipped out of the way, throwing a pack of knives as he did. The dark lord sidestepped the blades, reached out, and grabbed hold of the peacock's wing, flinging him against the metal support beams that formed a "wall" around them. He chuckled darkly, readying a punch...only to let out a startled grunt as the peacock kicked him square in the chest with both feet, somersaulting as he landed.

Holmes looked back down over his shoulder...

On a worker's lift, not too far below him, the viper lay, unmoving, like piece of supple green rope...

Tai Lung jumped to his feet and pounced; his claws grazed Holmes' head feathers. The peacock leapt back, off the runway...and swung around on a chain, swinging overhead and landing a flash kick in the shoulder...

Tai Lung snapped out a kick, hitting Holmes in the knee. As the bird doubled over, a second kick, from the other side, hooked him in the beak. He stumbled backwards, and fell from the runway, catching himself just in time. Tai Lung, smiling a mad sort of smile, got to his feet, and slowly approached, raising his foot to strike again, and send Holmes plummeting into the water below...

Holmes spun around, jumping up and using his tail to trip Tai Lung, who gasped as he fell. A piece of rope, tied to heavy bit of lead pipe, wrapped around the leopard's ankle, and Holmes kicked the pipe towards the edge of the runway. Tai Lung yelled, catching himself on one board. He tried to get up...but the heavy pipe, dangling over the river and the space between it and the cat, kept weighing him down.

Holmes panted, watching his foe struggle for a moment.

"There never was any magic, was there?" he began at last, eyes unforgiving. "Just tricks."

Holmes reached over and calmly plucked the poison canisters out of Tai Lung's paw. The leopard tried to grab them...but then stopped as he felt himself slide farther, catching himself on another board just in time...

"Detective..."

"The simplest ones involved paying people off: for example, bribing the guard to act like he was hexed in prison. Your mere reputation, among the other officers and prisoners alike, did the rest.

"Most were more elaborate, however...like the sandstone slab that covered your tomb: you had it secretly broken apart and then put back together, like a jigsaw puzzle, using a special adhesive: a particular mixture of egg, milk, and honey, originally used by the Egyptians...I tasted it on the rock at the crime scene, and found some more in Wo Hop's kitchen."

Tai Lung yelled as he lost his grip once more...and, once more, managed to catch hold of another board.

Holmes' eyes remained dark; he went on.

"Arranging for your father to drown in his own bathtub took more modern science...very clever of Wo Hop, creating a paralytic that would be activated by the combination of copper and water, and could be disguised as salt, and, thus, would be undetectable once the bath water was drained. I might have never found out, had he not also tested this poison on some...unfortunate amphibians."

"Detective!"

"The death of Ambassador Monkey _was_ a real mystery...until you used the same thing to destroy Nine Elms. An odorless, colorless, tasteless, flammable creation, able to made as both powder and liquid...it burned with a strange, pinkish hue. Perhaps Monkey mistook it for rain off the roof on the night you took over and killed him? At any rate, it only took ONE spark to set it off...

"But, like any good magician, you saved your best trick for the last: a special type of cyanide, refined in the bellies of swine...so ruthless were you, you even used the bodies of some of your own men...like Taotie. That explained why the warthog had injection markings in his stomach, and why I found they were done post-mortem. Had your ingenious little device spread your poison, the members of the Order of the Jade Palace – and yourself – would have watched, unscathed, as the Emperor and his council all fell dead. No doubt you had already given them the antidote – maybe via the Goblet of Allegiance I read about? The one all members drink from when a new leader takes control? – but they didn't know that. No, instead they would have believed it was true magic.

"And thus," Holmes finished, "The world would have fallen into fear...the single most powerful weapon in your arsenal. And that was really all you needed."

"Detective, enough!"

Holmes let out a mirthless laugh.

"Ohh, you better _hope_ it's all just superstition, Tai Lung...especially since you performed all the rituals perfectly during your murder of the five lambs, as well as the one I interrupted. The Devils due a soul, I'd say..."

The board Tai Lung held onto broke. He slid back farther...but caught himself again, feet now hanging over the edge.

"DETECTIVE!'' he shouted, "CUT ME LOOSE! _PLEASE!"_

Holmes lazily flung a knife in Tai Lung's direction, cutting the rope. The lead pipe fell into the water below with a quiet splash, and Tai Lung scrambled up, crouched, gasping for breath.

Holmes sneered.

"First, I'll see you charged," he said, cold as ice. "At your trial, the whole world will see you for what you really are: a fraud. Then, in jail, maybe some halfwit bruiser will make you his sweetheart...if we are all lucky. And then, finally, you will die. Properly this time."

Tai Lung snarled, amber eyes glaring at Holmes.

"It's a long way from here to the rope," he hissed.

Tai Lung rose fast, holding Holmes' own knife in one paw, over his head...

Holmes snapped out his whip, knocking the knife away. Tai Lung gasped, clutching his wrist, stepping back...

Then, he tripped, and tumbled, screaming, off the edge of the runway. Holmes ran over, and watched as the leopard crashed into a mess of tangled chains below...the screaming continued as one chain curled about his neck, and broke loose...

**TWANG.**

The screaming stopped.

And so it truly was: the end of Lord Tai Lung.

Holmes stared down, impassive.

_Not such a long way after all._

Without a second thought of any kind to the fallen feline, he moved away, and jumped down onto the lift where the viper lay.

As she opened her brilliant blue eyes, she felt something clamp down on her tail, and heard a short, clicking sound.

She flicked her tail, tugging experimentally...and smirked.

"I've never woken up cuffed to something before..."

"I have," Holmes retorted. "Naked."

The viper chuckled, and lifted her upper half. She and Holmes smiled at each other as the peacock sat beside her, then they both turned towards the horizon.

"...He_ is_ a professor."

Holmes raised an eyebrow, but didn't face her.

"I figured."

The viper sighed.

"Everyone has a price...a weak spot of some kind. He found mine. He might find yours, too."

"I see. What was yours, precisely?" Holmes teased.

The viper didn't even smile.

"Please, don't underestimate him," she whispered. "He's about as smart as you are, and at least twice as...devious."

"We'll see about that, won't we?" smiled Holmes.

"Hm."

A low rumbling of thunder in the dark sky made the viper tilt her head.

"A storm is coming..."

"We still have a little time."

And, for about ten minutes, they sat there...just Shenlock Holmes and the viper, watching the gathering clouds, and thinking of things to come...

"...Goodbye, Irene."

Holmes gave the viper a quick kiss, then stood. He moved to the edge of the lift, and held out the key to the cuffs for her to see...then put it right on the edge, where she couldn't reach.

The viper smirked, and batted her eyes.

"You'll miss me, Shenlock."

Holmes smiled ruefully.

"Sadly...yes."

And he flew away, gliding over the river, like a single white cloud in the dark, gray sky.

Far below, a shabby crow watched the gray-and-gold body that hung limply from the bridge.

He frowned, but said nothing but: "I have a new master now."

And the crow flew off in the opposite direction.


	24. Chapter 24

Notes: WELCOME, LADIES AND GENTLE-READERS, TO THE LAST CHAPTER! FEAR NOT; A SEQUEL WILL BE MADE...eventually. J.J. Hatter will be starting a new semester of college soon, so we will see when we can get in more.

**Epilogue: Case Reopened**

It was moving day.

Dr. Crane and his fiancé, Mei Morstan, stood side by side as a team of movers removed box after box from the house at 221 Mianbao Street and put them into wagons.

"I put your scribbles in here, sir," said the head mover, as he brought a particularly large crate out.  
"Thank you," Crane nodded.

"'Scribbles?'" Mei inquired.

Crane chuckled nervously.

"Uh...just a nickname; they're my notes of me and Holmes' cases..."

"Oh, your adventures!" smiled Mei brightly. "I'd like to read them!"

"I know," said Crane, and then gestured for Mei to follow him inside.

They passed Mrs. Sooth as they went.

"Good luck, doctor," smiled the old goat. "And...sorry about my little joke outside Liu & Chan..."

Crane rolled his eyes.

"It's fine, really."

Mrs. Sooth nodded, then smiled up at Mei.

"Oh, and this must be the future Mrs. Watson!"

"Mei," Mei chuckled.

"Good to see you! Please, come visit if you can!"

Mei assured her she would, and then she and Crane headed upstairs. As they neared the top, the cat paused. Crane looked at her, concerned.

"What's wrong?"

"Well...do you really think he's come to terms with you finally leaving?"

Crane smiled.

"He's as happy as I am, even if he doesn't act like it. Trust me. Now, just five minutes, and we'll go. Okay?"

Mei smiled back, and nodded.

Crane went up to the door, and knocked before he and Mei entered the flat...

Both froze, shocked at what they found.

Shenlock Holmes was hanging, limp, by the neck, from the ceiling.

For a moment, both were too stunned to speak...then Crane laughed.

"Don't worry," he whispered to Mei. "He'd _never_ kill himself. There'd be no fun in it."

He pecked at Holmes' dangling talons. They flinched, and with a yelp, the peacock opened his eyes.

Still dangling in the air, he smiled thinly at them.

"Ah...hello, Crane. You too, Ms. Morstan."

"What are you doing?" Mei asked, clearly unsure of what else to say.

"I was actually practicing the means by which I think Tai Lung might have faked his death. I must have dozed off...it's actually kind of restful..."

"Well, how?" asked Crane settling into a nearby chair.

"Well, concealed in the hangman's knot was a small hook...ugh, I think my legs have fallen asleep while I was up here, sorry..."

"Crane, shouldn't we let him down?"

Crane smirked.

"No, no...I hate to cut him off midstream. You were saying, Shenlock?"

"Huh? Oh, yes...the executioner attached that hook to a hidden harness under Tai Lung's prison outfit – I'm wearing a replica of it under my robe – so that the weight and impact would be distributed around the body, not the neck. Tai Lung probably bribed the poor animal, either with money, threats, or both, just like the prison guard...ach! Ooh, I'm sorry..tongue's going out, I think..."

"Worse things have happened," shrugged Crane.

Mei nudged him, smirking.

"Crane, just let him down!"

Crane sighed.

"Yes, dear," he muttered, then jumped up and cut the rope with his beak. Holmes dropped to the floor like a feathered kitten, landing perfectly on his feet.

"Now, none of this explains his lack of a pulse," Crane commented as Holmes removed the harness and tossed it aside.

"Right: the medical mystery. We must restore your reputation, doctor...well, the answer to that came to me when I saw the rhododendron in the ginger rabbit's kitchen. There is a toxin, quite notorious around the regions of the Black Sea, which can be refined from its nectar. It causes something called Mad Honey Disease: a state of paralysis so complete, the victim can seem dead even to the most skilled of medical minds, such as you. It takes a while to work however...Tai Lung probably snuck it into prison and injected himself with it shortly before his execution. Not much to worry about, really; you're just as good a doctor as ever."

"Extraordinary!" remarked Mei.

"Elementary, my dear," Crane and Holmes replied together.

All three laughed.

Their merriment was interrupted as a little black duck waddled into the room.

"Ahem...excuse me, Mr. Holmes. Sorry to intrude Dr. Crane, Ms. Morstan..."

"What is it now, Zeng?" Holmes drawled.

"One of our officers went missing the night after you stopped Lord Tai Lung. We found him just a few minutes ago...we believe he was moved from the catacombs; we sent a few men down there when you told us about what happened, and we think he was the first one to get there. He's been stabbed to death."

Holmes paused, then leaned forward, feathered fingers steepled thoughtfully.

"Most...engaging. What kind of stab wound?"

"Some sort of sword, I think..."

"Hmm...did you find any chalk on him?"

"...A little bit on his face, sir..."

"And what about Tai Lung's machine?"

"...We never found it, sir. The cyanide canisters are with Inspector Shifu; he was planning to hand them over to the Emperor's secret force today for storage."

Holmes growled in the back of his throat.

"Viper's Professor?" Crane murmered.

"No doubt."

"So...it _wasn't_ the poison he wanted..."

"Nothing is more elusive than the obvious: the remote control invention Tai Lung and Wo Hop made was the real ticket."

"And Irene Viper was only a diversion."

Holmes sighed.

"Of course...they knew I'd chase after her, and that the machine would be left unguarded. Technology of that kind would be worth a fortune...it's the future, doctor...the future..."

"Ahem!"

Crane turned to Mei, who pointed to the door.

Mrs. Sooth had come in. She bowed, still smiling.

"Dr. Crane," she informed, "They've finished loading your things."

Crane nodded slightly, and turned to Holmes.

"Well...I guess this is goodbye. Good luck, Holmes."

Shenlock Holmes said nothing.

He didn't even move.

Crane clenched his beak, coughed, and he and Mei left.

Once they were gone, Holmes was on his feet.

"Zeng? Show me to Inspector Shifu at once! 'The game's afoot!'"

_**The End...?**_

**VOICE CAST STARRING...**

**Shenlock Holmes (Lord Shen):**** Gary Oldman (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda II**_** & Count Dracula from **_**Bram Stoker's Dracula)**_

**Dr. Crane (Master Crane):**** David Cross (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda**_** & Minion from **_**Megamind)**_

**Irene Viper (Master Viper):**** Lucy Liu (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda**_** & Dr. Joan Watson from **_**Elementary)**_

**Mei Morstan (Mei Ling):**** Stephanie Lemelin (voice from **_**Secrets of the Furious Five**_** & Artemis Crock from **_**Young Justice)**_

**Lord Tai Lung (Tai Lung):**** Ian McShane (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda**_** & Blackbeard from **_**Pirates of the Carribbean IV: On Stranger Tides)**_

**Inspector Shifu (Master Shifu):**** Dustin Hoffman (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda**_** & Willy Loman from **_**Death of a Salesman (1985))**_

**Zeng:**** Dan Fogler (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda **_**& The President from **_**Monsters Vs. Aliens)**_

**Mrs. Sooth (Soothsayer):**** Michelle Yeoh (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda II**_** & Yu Shu Lien from **_**Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon)**_

**Mantis (Master Mantis):**** Seth Rogen (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda**_** & Green Hornet from **_**Green Hornet (film))**_

**Lord Vachir (Commander Vachir):**** Kevin Michael Richardson (R.I.P. Michael Clarke Duncan) (Gantu from **_**Lilo & Stitch**_** & Tartarus from **_**Halo II)**_

**Boss Crow (OC):**** Roger L. Jackson (Ghostface Voice from **_**Scream**_** & Cheshire Cat (among others) from **_**American McGee's Alice)**_

**Lidong:**** Jim Cummings (voice from **_**Legends of Awesomeness**_** & Pete from **_**Goof Troop**_** (among other Disney-related things))**

**Fung:**** John DiMaggio (voice from **_**Legends of Awesomeness**_** & Jake from **_**Adventure Time)**_

**Taotie:**** Wallace Shawn (voice from **_**Legends of Awesomeness**_** & Vizzini from **_**The Princess Bride)**_

**Lord Junjie (Junjie):**** Stephen Root (voice from **_**Legends of Awesomeness **_**& Mr. Merrimack and Doc from **_**Rango)**_

**U.S. Ambassador Monkey (Master Monkey):**** Jackie Chan (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda**_** & Chon Wang ("John Wayne") from **_**Shanghai Noon)**_

**Emperor Oogway (Grandmaster Oogway):**** Randall Duk Kim (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda**_** & Keymaker from **_**Matrix Reloaded)**_

**Captain Ox (Master Storming Ox):**** Dennis Haysbert (voice from **_**Kung Fu Panda II**_** & Kale from **_**Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas)**_

**AND...**

**The Mysterious Professor (Currently Unrevealed OC):**** Crispin Freeman (Alucard (a.k.a. Count Dracula) from **_**Hellsing **_**& Setzer from **_**Kingdom Hearts II)**_

_**COMING SOON:**__** Shenlock Holmes II: Game of Neverending Darkness**_


End file.
